


Arthur Ascending

by shutupeccles



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Slash Goggles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-02-24
Updated: 2010-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupeccles/pseuds/shutupeccles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's journey from Prince to King is fraut with danger, magic, and complicated conspiracies. At the same time Merlin progresses from humble servant to greatest warlock of all time. Each destiny relies on the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tourney brings friends from the past, devastating news, and an unearthly threat to Camelot. Merlin's magic is revealed. Arthur conspires to keep 'Emrys' secret.

Another tourney was drawing to a close. Uther stifled a yawn. 

While he was proud of his son's individual efforts, Arthur's rivals had not provided sufficient challenge to his talents. At least this last clash should be interesting. Le Guin had been guarding the most vulnerable border of Camelot since being knighted more than twenty years ago. A number of Uther's personal guard had been trained in their youth by Le Guin yet the man managed to defeat all opponents with entertaining flair. There was no pompous posturing in the older knight's fighting style; his series of efficient strokes were delivered in a fluid manner for the sole purpose of achieving victory rather than to entertain the ladies. Arms, feet and torso were in constant motion although most of the movements were subtle. Even his most apt pupil had fallen before him. 

Arthur would have to adjust his own method to win. In a serious fight the Prince was ruthless and efficient. In the tourneys he tended to show off.

Le Guin and Pendragon raised swords to visored faces once to the king, once to each other. Combat commenced. Uther was pleased to see that Arthur had noticed his opponent's skills and discarded unnecessary flourish. Both knights attacked and defended brilliantly with neither gaining significant advantage. Eventually Arthur knocked Le Guin's sword across the arena, but even before his grip was effectively broken Le Guin had grabbed his other sword with his left, intercepting Arthur's blow and throwing the prince off guard. The younger man recovered quickly, also drawing a second sword. Uther was not the only one standing to applaud their performance. He sat again as the pair settled into balanced give and take. Suddenly Arthur pressed the knight to his knees. Unexpectedly Le Guin flipped a dagger from the sheath at his thigh, striking Arthur's left leg below the hemline of his mail shirt.

"I yield!” Le Guin's voice echoed gruffly as the knight threw down sword and shield. “Do not remove that blade Sire or you will bleed to death." 

The immediate audience were astonished to hear a woman's voice from the armoured figure, none so much as Arthur who merely stared as Le Guin tore a strip of green tabard and expertly tied a tourniquet above the wound. 

"Your Majesty, your son needs a physician immediately."

"Remove your helm." Father and son commanded simultaneously. 

"I suggest you fetch the physician first.” The helmet was removed to reveal a scarred, unattractive yet undeniably female face. “Then you can arrest me for impersonating my brother Sir Iain Le Guin."

*

Arthur's leg was tightly bandaged. Merlin had performed some undetected magic to slow the bleeding whilst Gaius removed the blade. Merlin was still ribbing his friend about being beaten by a woman - an ugly old woman as they entered the throne room.  
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Uther demanded, half rising with concern.

"If I sit with my leg up I'll be fine. I don't want to miss an interview with the woman who made our best knights look like brawling adolescents."

Merlin's face contorted into a series of silly expressions as he tried not to laugh at the truth of that statement. He looked away, shamefaced as Uther turned a disapproving gaze his way. Once the prince was comfortable Merlin assumed his usual subservient position by the wall.

Six of Uther's strongest knights brought the prisoner into the king's presence. Merlin had never seen so many guards for one person. She certainly didn't look so formidable in her simple country dress. The woman knelt immediately, head bowed, and waited.

Uther sat for a moment in silence. He had known Sir Iain and his sister Lady Sariah since the lady was twelve. His wife Ygraine had taken an interest in the girl from Borthgard and educated her in the niceties of Court. She had never been a beauty, yet was widely admired her directness and battle skills. By the day's performance it was obvious she continued to fight alongside her brother, defending their border from raiders and worse. It was rumoured she had singlehandedly defeated four woad raiders, killing one, while unarmed and in stays. Uther believed it. So he should, it was true. Her husband Hector of Umberland had died the same year as Ygraine after only a few months of marriage. In her grief Lady Sariah had begged to retain the name Le Guin. Uther had agreed, understanding her pain. Her daughter would be only weeks younger than Arthur, _what was her name...Adelaide?_ The assembly remained still as Uther thought. _Le Guin honesty was legend - let's put it to the test._

"Well?" was all he said.

"Forgive my deception Majesty. I know the punishment for impersonating a knight is death, but our situation is dire and I had to be sure of your undivided attention."

"Almost killing my only son certainly gained that."

"An unfortunate accident. The throw was reflexive and unaimed."

"If you can do that by reflex alone..." Arthur began, with astonishment obvious in his posture. Uther placed a calm hand on Arthur's arm and the prince fell silent, thinking he probably didn't want to know what damage the woman did deliberately.

"Continue," commanded Uther.

"There are creatures...I know what they are called but cannot speak the name. Even whispering the true name, breathing while you mouth the word calls them to you,” the Lady looked up to face the king, her face rendered uglier by fear. 

Merlin found himself thinking: _Still better looking than that troll_ and shook himself into focus. This sounded like the sort of thing he got tangled up in. Gaius would be pleased - not!

"They have the ability to…to get inside a person's body and control it, as if they push the human mind to one side. The afflicted person sees, hears, feels, smells, tastes everything that is happening, and maintains the ability to think, but cannot move of their own accord. Some of the things these creatures make them do..." the Lady shuddered.

"How do you know this?"

"My daughter Adelheid had one within her. It left her body when she was almost struck by lightning in a recent storm, but her mind has been broken. All Adelheid can talk of is how cold it felt, the horror of being trapped and her terror of it returning."

"Is Adelheid here?" Arthur asked. He remembered the beautiful young lady and a few stolen kisses - and more - from their youth.

"Yes."

"She's with Gaius,” Merlin interrupted. “He had been examining her when he was summoned to Arthur."

Uther gestured to a servant. "Tell Gaius I need a full report on his findings when he is finished. Prepare comfortable quarters for the young lady. She has noble parentage and has done nothing wrong."

"Thank you my King." Sariah was obviously relieved yet still very afraid. Her fear worried Uther. People from the borderlands had more mettle than those raised in the city.

"There is more I gather.” Uther waved to another servant. “Fetch wine and a chair for the Lady. If you lie you will regret such hospitality, if you speak truthfully than you already suffer greatly."

"Again thank you. If I may have water instead of wine?" Sariah enquired.

"You do not fear to anger me with a request?"

"Why should I fear my King?" She appeared earnestly confused. Uther was impressed. Sariah sat gratefully into the chair and continued. “Some of those possessed have been arrested as sorcerers. At least one entire family has been put to death. Unfortunately the creatures simply move on to a new host. My own brother recently became afflicted which is why I bear the message in his stead."

Uther gripped his chair in horror. Merlin and Arthur leaned forward, both thinking of a way to become involved. Sariah drank deeply from the provided cup.

"There is still worse. These...daughters of the stars are growing in number, calling each other from wherever they originate. A month of study has taught us their name, some of their nature and how to send them home. Unfortunately the only book that tells us how to remove them safely from a person's body was last seen in your palace library. It has probably been destroyed as the only way to save those possessed requires..." Sariah could no longer speak, but implored Uther with teary eyes.

"Magic," the assembly finished for her, their voices hushed. Sariah nodded.

"I came to plead with you Your Majesty. With the full moon approaching they become even stronger and more numerous. It was calculated that not only Camelot, but all of Albion will fall to them within a year."

"There is no other way?"

"Lightning sends them back, but without magic there is no way to control it, or to free those trapped.” Sariah stood, dignified yet subtly poised for flight. “I understand why you forbid magic, we all loved Ygraine, but Camelot should not be allowed to die because you once put your trust in the wrong person."

"You forget yourself."

"No Uther, you forget why you made the choice you did.” Sariah gestured palm up to Arthur, “He is the heart of Camelot, proof that you chose the proper tool, you simply asked the wrong person to use it. If you cannot, or will not help us, then I beg permission to return to Borthgard and provide what little comfort I can."

"You have given us much to think about. You are free to leave." 

As the lady strode purposefully from the room Arthur sat forward and tenderly lowered his wounded leg. It felt surprisingly better already.

"Can this be true?"

Uther nodded sadly. "Sariah was one of your mother's favourite court acquaintances, especially as they were with child at the same time. Ygraine often said Sariah's honesty would get her into trouble, that she wouldn't lie even to save herself."

"What do you want me to do?" Merlin came forward to ask Arthur.

"Try to catch her and learn the name of these creatures. Better take a parchment and ask her to write it down since speaking the name is so dangerous. We certainly don't want any of the things here. Then head to the library with those knights who can read, all the ones from around Borthgard can, they regularly complain that Lady Sariah makes sure of it. Work together to find as much information as you can while I talk to Gaius and Lady Adelheid—if she stayed behind.” Arthur seemed to remember himself, “with the King's approval of course."

"Do as your Prince commands."

"Forgive my presumption.”

"There is nothing to forgive. You used your authority well. I will however make some small change to your plan: you may accompany me while I interview Gaius and Lady Adelheid. If you try to kiss her again, Sariah _will_ kill you.” Uther placed an affectionate hand on his son's shoulder. “Your servant has proven himself very efficient."

"Thank you Father."

"When he's not being a buffoon."

**

Gaius sat next to the sonsy young lady with a broken mind, recording her experiences as Adelheid picked at some food. The creatures did not realise that their hosts needed nourishment and she had neither eaten nor drank whilst one resided within her. Gaius intended to add these observations to the book in front of him. He wondered how many cases of the wasting disease may have been caused by these spirits. He was surprised to see Uther enter his chamber with Merlin and Arthur. In the past he had always been summoned to the king. Adelheid startled as the door opened but relaxed and smiled shyly when the prince entered.

"Arthur," she whispered with a giggle, recalling the last time they had been together.

"Lady Adelheid." Father and son greeted her with identical bows.

Arthur remembered her as an intelligent, lively girl. Now she appeared vapid and timid. The royal faces wore the same concern as she gave a giggling curtsey and returned to her plate.

"Her mind is like a child's.” Gaius sighed sadly. “This is all we know of these beings." Gaius explained as he passed the book and his notes to Uther. Merlin hurriedly cleared a space at the table so the king could sit. The warlock struggled not to read the book over the king's shoulder and noticed the large pile of books next to the table. 

"When did you get these? They weren't in the library."

"Sir Alan of Borthgard brought them in while you were serving Arthur at the tourney. Apparently he and his comrades have been doing the research here and sending the relevant information home in letters for weeks. There was a note in the book Uther holds detailing where to find the spell to release these _star daughters_ \- it's a masking name.” he explained to the stunned men. “That book is not here."

Uther passed the loose pages to Arthur and began to read aloud from the aged volume.

"They are safely called Daughters of the Stars as they are born when a star is born. Having wings of glass, eyes of burning ice and unable to touch the earth they travel long distances in an instant. As a Magical being of light, ice and air a single Daimone can be summoned..."

"You called her!" Adelheid dropped her food and scuttled, covering her eyes, as far from Uther as possible. She huddled into a tight ball, sadly reminding both Arthur and Merlin of a startled hedgehog.

A voice like the faint tinkling of tiny bells calling **_I hear you_** preceded the sudden appearance of the daimone. Its noticeably female form resembled glowing blue-white silk, undulating in a breeze no human could feel. Her wings appeared to be feathered with frosted glass, her eyes blazed with cold blue fire. **_I know who called me_**. The men were mesmerised by the movement of her curves and the purity of her voice. All four stood helpless as she drew a bow and arrow out of her own substance and aimed it at Uther. **_It was you_**. The arrow flew into the king's eye, drawing the daimone after it as a needle pulls a thread.

"It's gone!" declared Merlin from behind the king.

"His eyes." Adelheid whimpered, shaking her head.

Uther's irises flickered like pale blue flames.

"Get it out!" Arthur ordered.

"I don't know how without the proper book." 

" _She'_ s got the book!" Merlin exclaimed.

Arthur bit back a profanity and ran one hand through his hair before kneeling before Adelheid, gently taking her trembling hand in his larger one. The familiar contact prompted her to raise her eyes to his.

"Del, Adelheid, can you take us to your mother?"

The daimone inside Uther had by now learned to control his body and rose from the chair to walk gracefully to the door. 

"I come, my sisters." Uther's voice reached their ears but the chiming voice of the daimone spoke directly into their minds.  
Merlin grinned. "Or we could just follow him!"

***

Getting Uther to sit a horse unaided proved difficult so it was decided that he should sit behind Merlin and Arthur would share a horse with Adelheid.

"So warm!" The Uther-daimone exclaimed delightedly, leaning its head on Merlin's shoulder as they rode off.

Arthur stifled a laugh as Merlin flinched.

"This is SO wrong! He's _your_ father."

"Then imagine how much worse it would be for me! Besides, Del knows me."

"You fancied her."

"There aren't many desirable women in Camelot who also have a strong mind and compassionate heart. Del had courage and determination to do what's right. Station didn't matter. If you were a clotpole she told you so, like her mother." Arthur's heart ached to see what his adolescent love had been reduced to. If Sir Iain hadn't caught them kissing and forbidden them to see each other again she'd be his wife now, and whole. Unaware of their history, Merlin was thinking of present romances.

"Like Gwen, you mean," he responded cheekily.

"Shut up Merlin."

Merlin's grin vanished as daimone-Uther snuggled closer against his back to point out the path to Borthgard. Arthur's laughter roared through the forest as they rode on. The daimone had been curious when Arthur made them stop to rest and marvelled at the feel of food and drink in Uther's mouth. On the second night they rode through the outskirts of the large village. Adelheid clutched Arthur's waist so tight it hurt them both but he was too awed by what they saw to make her stop.

Atop a hill crowned by a ring of white loaf-sized stones daimones danced. Their voices were not as carefree as their sister who slid off Merlin's horse to glide up the hill. Under normal circumstances seeing Uther move like that would have been hilarious. Merlin was too scared to laugh. Riding nearer they saw a large, domed cage had been locked around them to prevent the creatures from leaving the Faerie Mound. Their blue-white radiance detailed the many silver articles woven about the cage bars. As Uther's daimone reached the stones, a knight wearing the tabard of Camelot but no armour placed two silver necklaces over the king's head and took his elbow.

"That's not nice!" she scolded.

"This will stop you hurting yourself StarDaughter. Silver weakens them, but not by much," the knight explained to the others before seating his king next to the cage. Inside flitted more than four score daimones and at least two dozen possessed villagers. At a smaller concentric ring of stones, silhouetted in the flickering light knelt Lady Sariah, tearing at her hair and rocking back and forth. The three dismounted, Arthur holding Adelheid's hand. Sariah did not hear them approach.

"It's not working! I've got everything you stupid book! I'm reading the wretched words, **why isn't it working**?"

The enclosed daimones all turned to the same direction as they chimed a name in unison. **_Emrys!_**

Sariah turned to the stunned warlock, her expression relieved.

"You, I need your help.” Sariah saw his fear of exposure but she had no choice. “Arthur's protecting my daughter and my knights are busy keeping our people safe. Please, just stay by me.” As Merlin reluctantly knelt beside her she continued in a whisper. “Can you channel your power through me? If we make it look as though the words and gestures are mine you will not be suspected."

Merlin nodded. He had done that before although his channel had been unaware. It would be easier with a willing participant.

"These words and actions release the StarDaughter from a corpus, binding her into this ribbon. The knights who came with me from Camelot will assist the freed people out of the cage. Once they are all out, I throw the ribbon into the cage and we call the lightning. Pffft, they're gone."

"We'd better do Uther last then," suggested Merlin.

"Good thinking."

Merlin carried the book so it looked as if he were merely holding it for her. As he projected his magic, Sariah performed the tasks. First she lit a white candle by brushing the wick with a fallen daimone feather and spoke Merlin's words. Then she rang a silver bell once in each ear of the victim, then above their head. The daimone would turn to face the last bell and Sariah would place the ribbon across the eyes. Merlin made full use of her battle hardened voice and at their joint command the ribbon would wriggle and jump as the person sagged to earth. Adelheid sat huddled nearby so Arthur could help lift the cage while knights covered in silver trinkets hauled the catatonic people out. At Adelheid's insistence he was careful to keep his gaze to the ground. The entire ritual was repeated for each person within the cage. 

Hours later Uther was the only human contaminated by a daimone. She showed curiosity rather than fear which led Merlin to believe she was not as mature as the others. Arthur now held his father in an embrace which she obviously enjoyed. _Emrys will help me join my sisters_ she chimed happily and sat forward to welcome them. Arthur realised she wasn't talking about Sariah. To ensure his father remained unaware he addressed the Lady.

"Your people are well prepared." he complimented Sariah.

"Time was of the essence. Any information gleaned was passed on and acted upon immediately. We only needed the book and the full moon.” Arthur felt she was able to look past the daimone to his father's awareness as she spoke to it in a voice used to obedience. “Understand and remember Uther Pendragon that it was I who acted against your law and I alone."

Arthur understood completely. The woman who would not lie to save her own life had lied to protect Merlin. The luminescence surrounding the pair did not originate with the daimones. They performed the ritual for the final extraction and Arthur observed closely how Merlin's power shone through both of them. Who was he that creatures born from stars knew of him? Who was Arthur to have earned this magnificent man's friendship? His thoughts were interrupted as his father sagged against him. Sariah tossed the ribbon into the cage.

"Fall back!" she commanded. Obedience was immediate as knights ran down the hill and laid woollen blankets over the weak. Arthur scooched back with his burden so King and heir were also covered.

Sariah raised her hands palm out to the barely visible iron rod running through the centre of the cage and high into the sky. Merlin sent a different surge of power to the female warrior. Arthur heard light running steps as Adelheid intercepted the transfer.

"Del! NO!" Arthur bellowed, trapped under his father's innate form as she scrambled up the cage to embrace the conductor the way she once embraced him.

Merlin's eyes were horrified as he fought to draw the magic back. 

" **Mima Ngamuurr Maarruu!** " Adelheid cried to the heavens.

Lightning sizzled down from the sky and up from the ground, crackling explosively where they collided. Tendrils of electricity flickered throughout the cage, deliberately searching out the daimones. They disappeared with an exultant snap on contact as forces capable of destroying stone sent the stardaughters home unscathed. Then silence...not silence: a scream so high and agonised it seem to start in the mind. The Scream paused only to draw breath. It was all that existed.

Merlin turned to see Sariah collapsed on the ground arms reaching toward the empty cage, a swarm of young men trying to hold her down. Of her daughter there was no sign. Not even ash. The Scream became a howl of anguished words.

_"My baby! Not my daughter!"_ Sariah repeated as she continued to crawl forwards. 

Despair had given her superhuman strength. The half dozen weeping knights could only slow her down. Merlin crumbled where he was and could not move at all. Only one could stand. Arthur laid his father on the ground and strode intently to the mourning woman. His own tears flowed freely. Sariah had none. The knights moved to let him through. As Sariah tried to scramble to her feet Arthur wrapped her in his arms. Her struggles and screaming immediately ceased. He held her authoritatively, wordlessly, comfortingly. Merlin could feel the prince's grief and love flow through their embrace to touch her own. It filled and spilled over them both. Sariah wept. 

Merlin no longer doubted their twin destinies. Now he saw Arthur as the Last Dragon had always seen him. 

He was glorious.

Arthur nodded to Merlin. He knew the truth about Emrys.

Merlin nodded back. He knew Arthur would keep the magic secret.


	2. Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uther is in a quandry over what to do with his noble prisoner. Arthur's solution removes the largest obstacle preventing him from marrying Gwen. Merlin gets a promotion.

Lady Sariah Le Guin of Borthgard sat manacled in the most isolated dungeon, hands clasped, apparently staring out the tiny window. For the moment her cheeks were dry, her mind empty of thought. Grief at the death of her daughter and guilt over what may lay ahead for her knights from Borthgard continued to weigh on her heart.

The straw smelled awful and prickled through her modest dress yet she had managed to sleep on it uninterrupted for almost twenty-four hours. Only one person had spoken to her since her return to the home of the Pendragons. A castle maid had been comforting and friendly when she brought the prisoner's daily meal. Sariah had only been able to stare blankly at the beautiful young woman, unwilling to communicate lest the pain reduced her once again to a sobbing mess huddled on the wretched straw covered floor. She regretted that now, and hoped the maid would come back so she could at least thank her and ask her name.

Masculine tread sounded on the stairs, bringing the prisoner out of her reverie as the guards came to attention. They had expected trouble from such a notorious captive. All she had done thus far was sleep or stare at the thoughts within her head, so they sat around talking of hunting, sweethearts and hunting sweethearts. Crown Prince Arthur greeted the guards by name with a respectful nod. Each man smiled in return with obvious pride at being noticed in such an amiable fashion by Camelot's heir. 

"As you know, my father is still indisposed after the incident at Borthgard. I need to interview Lady Le Guin on his behalf. Privately," Arthur added. His tone was that of Prince Regent and would not be disobeyed, even if the men did murmur about the presence of his manservant as they left. If the Lady were indeed a powerful witch he'd need more than a lackey to protect him.

Arthur and Merlin each brought a chair to the cell door. 

"Lady Sariah." 

The Lady curtseyed with what deference she could manage with stiffened joints and was surprised to discover her voice still worked as she responded.

"Your Highness. Emrys."

Her separate curtsey to his servant was not lost on Arthur, nor the young man himself who smiled warmly despite feeling awkward at such recognition. The name puzzled Arthur too, but those riddles could wait for now. The gentlemen sat and made no comment when the lady did not. Arthur began by putting her mind at ease.

"The King and his subjects infected by the stardaughters were brought to Camelot in carts from Borthgard soon after your own departure and currently reside in the infirmary under the careful eye of the court physician, Gaius. Exhaustion appears to be the main result of their entanglement, with only a few suffering dehydration and hunger. Del's,” Arthur stammered slightly over her daughter's name. “Adelheid's courage in relating her experiences ensured the patients' immediate needs were addressed before they made the journey. You will be notified as more detailed diagnoses become available."

"Thank you Lord Prince."

Arthur began to wave away her earnest gratitude until he saw it reflected in Merlin's expression. It appeared he would have to grow accustomed to people being proud of him. Not for the first time he wondered how his mother would look upon his actions, if such gentle praise might have been reinforced with a maternal hug. Or were such luxuries only for peasants? As always there were more important questions requiring his attention. He looked enquiringly at Merlin then turned a regally stern gaze at his prisoner.

"First question: Why do you and the stardaughters call this man Emrys? His name is Merlin."

"I have not heard that name, Sire. The name Emrys however has been whispered through the earth and on the wind for generations, long before magic was considered evil. I was as surprised as he was to hear them use his True name."

"How did you know they meant me?"  
For once Arthur did not berate Merlin for interrupting.

"Growing up by the Faerie Mound makes you sensitive to the Daoine Sidhe who visit there. I can hear and feel the flow of magic even though I cannot use it."

Her eyes widened in horror as she realised she had just revealed Merlin's secret. Arthur however was not alarmed by this revelation. 

"Nevertheless, your actions saved Borthgard, Camelot and by extension Albion. You took great risks, and payed expensively for your choices. I offer my thanks on behalf of my peo... my father's people.” Arthur had only been acting regent for three days, and while he bore the crown of authority comfortably he still appeared awkward as he turned his attention to Merlin. “My own personal thanks are extended also to you...Emrys. Your own decisions put yourself in more danger than those you were willing to save, probably not for the last time, certainly not the first."

Arthur placed a firm, comradely hand on Merlin's knee. This contact, more than those heartfelt words and using his secret name, convinced Merlin that Arthur understood exactly who and what his servant was and far from fleeing in panic would stand beside him whatever lay ahead; just as Merlin would do, had done for him. The warlock's grin made everything between them, not quite back to normal, but definitely more relaxed. Sariah dabbed at fresh tears with her sleeves.

"So like Ygraine!" she whispered to herself.

This was the third reason Arthur had demanded private audience, to learn more of his mother. "Tell me about her." 

His voice was filled with contradicting inflections: whispered, childish, hesitant; commanding, adult, yearning. Somehow Merlin and Sariah saw him as lost little boy, arrogant youth and compassionate man combined. Even if she had not been his captive, Sariah would never deny him this request. She spoke affectionately, honestly and the Prince hungrily leaned forward to devour it all.

*

Arthur and Merlin's dungeon visits became routine. The Prince found someone else to muck out his stables and clean up after his, he admitted reluctantly, rather useless self. Arthur had Lady Le Guin's books on magic and letters from Ygraine Pendragon ‘confiscated’ after learning of their existence during his first interview and had them delivered directly into his own hands. Each day since their arrival Merlin would bring a book and Arthur a letter to study. The warlock usually read quietly, sitting slightly aside on the floor while Arthur and Sariah read through the personal correspondence; Arthur craving explanation of some phrase or experience detailed therein. Gaius and Arthur had been made aware of each other's knowledge of Merlin's powers and conspired together to safely educate their mutual friend. Although it must remain secret from all others, Merlin had never felt so free or so accepted. Arthur often turned to him in childish glee to share something that particularly struck him and Merlin always comfortably grinned back. They had no secrets now, even joking about their former feelings for Morgana and current love interests. Some nasty gossip surfaced about the depth of their friendship, but their mutually unchecked laughter when confronted with these rumours proved just how ludicrous they were.

It had taken five days since returning to Camelot for Uther to regain enough strength to face his duties. It was not so much physical affliction that kept him to his bed, but moral and emotional torment. Some of the emotional strain had been relieved by the increasingly vibrant company of his son. The king had heard the servants' smutty murmurs and when he most seriously broached the subject of this notorious relationship, Arthur had given Uther a repeat performance of the confident manner in which he had publicly quashed the tales: at a banquet with the full court no less! Every evening was steadily bringing them closer as Arthur revealed more of his true self, causing Uther to do the same. Uther had not realised how much of his mother's nature lived on in his son, buried beneath his own. There had even been a rare tearful embrace as each apologised for being so, how had Arthur put it? _So darned proper!_ Unfortunately the source of these changes only added to his ethical struggle.

Magic had been performed. 

He passed Arthur on his way to the dungeons. The boy, _man_ he corrected, was sans servant for a change. 

"Don't tell me he's actually doing some work!" Uther quipped, bringing forth his son's rich laugh. The king berated himself once again for wasting a quarter of a century being a stranger to his greatest blessing. 

Arthur knew what Uther was about and did not challenge his authority. Gone were the youthful tantrums that had threatened to persist into old age. He had proven himself most capable as regent and his father had rewarded him by sharing his regal burdens. He had had to accept that his son was a fully grown man - how old that made Uther feel! Arthur's mature perspective and continued assurance that both himself and Sariah understood that the law must be upheld proved had it beyond doubt.

He felt even older as he approached the prisoner. Arthur's visits obviously brought the Lady pleasure yet not enough to lessen her grief. His own heart felt heavy as he greeted her. Her response was as always respectful. Uther replaced the chair Arthur had so recently vacated.

"No need to stand with me Lady Sariah. I've been sitting and laying down long enough. I need to walk just as much as we need to talk." 

Sariah sat on clean straw, legs tucked aside beneath her sable skirt, hands clasped modestly in her lap. 

"Such a demure pose for a hardened warrior!" 

His unexpectedly light observation brought a small smile to her lips but not close enough to her eyes. Uther assumed his most ponderous stance: feet shoulders' breadth apart, hands clasped behind back as they unconsciously flicked his cloak of office, head slightly angled downward and to the side, eyes focussed on his audience.

"I am not here to condemn today, merely converse. You place me at a crossroads Sariah, and I do not like either path available to me. One leads me to put you to death for sorcery, the other to reward you for saving myself and my people. One may cost me my authority but the first may cost me my son, a price I have never been willing to pay." 

"I understand my King and am willing to accept the consequences for my actions."

"I know you did not encourage my knights' insubordination. They independently acted to preserve all that is dear to us. These men shall receive no punishment. They, after all, did not use magic. Is that how you know about ...Arthur...Ygraine, through magical means?" He fumbled the question, hating that it needed to be asked and dreading her answer.

"No, your Majesty. Banning the performance of magic is like barring access to a river - you may not dip into it, but the current flows by regardless. The elements continually speak of the doings of mortal and immortal alike, and when something momentous occurs the stones resonate in song!” Her voice was reverent, bordering on zealous. Her connection to this phenomenon was almost palpable. “Arthur's birth was one of those times. We who live near the Mounds can't help but hear, no matter what song the stones sing. Nothing is ever truly secret."

Uther was thrown off by her answer. Such a simple simile to explain why his struggle against magic continued to fail. He changed the topic to mask his discomfort. "What do you discuss with my son?"

"He has told you."

"I want to hear it from you."

"He talks about you, his past with Adelheid, the choices he makes, how I beat him in the tourney - now there's a sore point! I get the feeling there's a favourite girl he wants to talk about but he never quite gets there. I talk about Adelheid, the choices they made, how to improve his fighting technique, you and mostly his mother. Satisfied?" 

"He didn't mention myself, Adelheid or this other girl but the rest he told me of. He also says you're willing to die."

"Why should I live?"

The answer struck Uther but he could not voice it: _For Arthur_. Sariah had introduced him to the mother he never knew. She knew Ygraine as only another woman could. Executing Sariah would be like killing Ygraine again. His spoken reply ignored these revelations but was nonetheless heartfelt. 

"You have my deepest condolences Lady Sariah. Whilst prepared to sacrifice yourself to this deed, you strove to prevent other casualties. The loss of Lady Adelheid Le Guin is felt by many, not least by myself. I am aware that had Arthur's romance been allowed to continue, under stricter supervision of course, she may also have been my daughter at this time. Sir Iain and I intervened on behalf of Adelheid's honour as well as my son's. As the young couple did not persist, I harbour no regret."

This last was not entirely true, although it had been until he overheard part of a conversation between Arthur and his clown of a servant. The daimone had then drawn Uther's attention away by using the king's body to snuggle against the scrawny lad's back. He closed his eyes and shuddered mentally at the memory which still caused him to wake up retching. _Horrible, horrible._

"Despite the methods employed you did release me from that,” Uther's face twisted in distaste, “...thing, and you have my eternal gratitude. As with the last time we met, you have given me much to think about. As before, I cannot thank you for it.” He turned to leave, stopped and looked at her side on, hands still folded behind his back beneath the cloak. “I will however thank you for bringing Ygraine back through her son, _to_ her son."

"My pleasure, your Majesty." Sariah curtseyed deeply and Uther felt the emotion in her reply.

**

In the morning the lovely dark-skinned maidservant brought breakfast, water to wash and clean clothing - all black to signify a Lady in mourning. They were left alone as Gwen told the guards she acted on Prince Arthur's orders. Sariah called her bluff after the knights disappeared upstairs.

"Well, no, he didn't but men never consider hygiene a priority for some reason." 

Gwen passed on city gossip, giggling at the inferred romance between Prince and servant as Sariah bathed. Sariah balked at Gwen helping her dress but the young woman was persistent. Gwen waited until Sariah had eaten then dashed off to her regular duties, sending the guards down with a cheerful smile.

***

"Stubborn," was Arthur's reply when Sariah mentioned Gwen's attentions during his regular afternoon visit.

There was, however, a fire in his eye that led her to gently murmur “ _ahh._ ” Merlin grinned and Arthur looked away causing Sariah to exclaim "Aahh!" in a teasing tone. Arthur blushed furiously. 

"Oh shut up!" he snapped.  
They just laughed at him until he confessed his affection for the dark-eyed beauty, then they cruelly refused to mention her for the rest of the day.

****

Uther came to the dungeon after dining with Arthur in the evening, also banishing the knights on duty upstairs. He and his prisoner would discuss their mutual past, his late wife Ygraine, her late husband Hector, Arthur, training regimes - everything except Sariah's imprisonment.  
This routine carried on for a month and Sariah soon became the most visited, least guarded prisoner in Albion's history. One evening she suddenly asked the only question never addressed.

"Uther, why am I still alive?" Her gaze expressed nothing. Uther received no clue to her thoughts. 

"You wish to be a martyr?” he asked. The Lady shook her head in the negative. “Then why do you ask?"

"Every time you come down those stairs I prepare myself to face death. Every day spent with your son makes that harder to do."

"You have developed feelings for Arthur?"

"No, not that sort. I have developed a love of life. I am no longer ready to die." 

"You will not die - at least not by my order. Nor can you remain down here.” Uther shifted uncomfortably on his cushioned chair. “Has Arthur mentioned his ideas on the subject?"

"No-o-o," the Lady replied warily. The Prince had possessed a streak of nasty humour as a boy and there was evidence suggesting he had not entirely put it aside. Uther thought the same thing when Arthur introduced the idea some days ago, but his son had persisted in all seriousness. He couldn't help but chuckle at Sariah’s reaction.

"I understand your trepidation, believe me. But Arthur is adamant that he has found an appropriate course of action." _Darn that boy, he could have done this himself, or at least made it easier._

"Does it involve the stocks?" Sariah asked.  
Uther's laughter answered in negative. From the jovial chatter of Camelot's young people, Sariah concluded Arthur had a strange obsession with the stocks.

"No, but you may wish it did.” Uther thought about what he was going to say next and flushed, squirming awkwardly on his seat. He had also heard some of those jocular remarks. “Ah, forget I said that...definitely NO stocks."

As the King laid out his son's plan Sariah understood and then shared his discomfort. The situation of her interment must pose dire consequences for Uther to even consider such an idea! Or for Arthur to propose it. That was the key word: _propose._

"So he has given us the choice of your bed, or my head?"

"Not my bed exactly. It would be a travesty to the sanctity of marriage and the love we harbour for our departed spouses, not to mention...”

"...the fact I do not find you remotely attractive." Uther and Sariah completed the phrase in unison.

"Political marriage only?" Sariah wanted to be sure of the exact terms of her sentence.

"Definitely. A warrior Queen in these troubled times would give new hope to Camelot."

"Especially an expendable warrior queen.” Sariah thought for a moment, she liked the way that sounded actually. 'As _Warrior Queen_ , will I outrank Arthur on the battlefield? Put myself at risk at the thick of things while Camelot's smarmy oh-too-clever heir stays safe at home?"

"Yes." Uther replied with growing concern until Sariah threw back her head and laughed joyously. The smile on her face when the mirth wound down was wickedly triumphant.

"I can't wait to tell him!"

*****

Arthur's dreams had been a turmoil of nightmare, memory and anticipation since _the incident at Borthgard._  
That was how he referred to it, never as _Adelheid's death_ or _Merlin's revelation_. The first few weeks had focussed on nightmare, always the same: Del climbing up the silver draped cage as adeptly as a squirrel, surrounded by a nimbus of energy linking her to a horrified Merlin; as he tried to break this connection lightning coursed through her and she ignited, somehow becoming both herself and Merlin bound at the stake as flames tore up to ravish him/her/them; Arthur tried to hurl himself into the conflagration to pull them free but his father forcibly held him back with this admonition "It's for your own good children."

Those were the words spoken with Royal authority that had ended the adolescent Pendragon/Le Guin romance. "It's for your own good children." Sir Iain and Uther had sat before Arthur and Adelheid. The young couple were too scared to even hold hands, these two who only minutes earlier had sworn to each other they would not be parted by anything. They were obedient, noble children however and readily believed the platitudes King and Knight drilled into them: marrying early to a partner of your choice was a luxury for peasantry; duty and protocol outweighed love and attraction.

If they had been less obedient would these nightly visions be any different? Would Del have been as willing to die if she was Arthur’s wife? These questions continued to haunt him during the day, long after the night terrors had been replaced by no less disturbing dreams.

They started in memory, different innocuous memories each night which unerringly lead to the same place: Del's determined eyes as she grasped his tousled hair and pulled him into the kiss that would lead to their ruin. He knew that look, craved it. If he crossed her now and didn't give her exactly what she wanted there would be hell to pay. He saw again his face reflected in her eyes, wearing the same expression. They were of one mind and would soon become one body. They had both grown up surrounded by loose-tongued knights and their sometimes bawdy stories of romance so expected there to be some discomfort if not pain for this, their first time, but Del was irresistibly adamant. He would not deny her - eternal hell seemed a small price to pay for this brief time in heaven together! As the remembrance of her startled gasp aroused more than the dream-Arthur's concern his eyes caught hers, telling her he would stop if need be. Del's lust-husky voice whispered "Don't you dare!" as she kissed him hungrily. Then she would gradually phase into Gwen. He was no longer an adolescent but he still had to master restraint. Duty and protocol labelled this second chance at happiness as forbidden fruit.

He awoke from this dream in an agony of physical and emotional torment. If Uther had since arranged a suitable marriage for his son, Arthur would have been spared this indignity at least. Arthur crossed to his wash stand with difficulty and tipped the cooling water into his lap to extinguish the desire blazing there. Once he was rational again he bellowed out for his servant.

"Merlin!" but Merlin was not his servant anymore. Thanks to Arthur he now had more important duties in the King's schola. His much younger replacement appeared instantly.

"Yes Sire?"

"The darn basin toppled. Fetch me fresh, hot water and dry clothes."

"Yes Sire."

Merlin had been a rather gormless servant, but Arthur missed the repartee. Stripping down he ran through how that exchange would have gone if Merlin had come running, well, more like plodding when he'd called.  
 _"Merlin! Mer-lin! MERLIN!"_

_Enter Merlin: plod, plod, plod "What now?"_

_"That darn basin sloshed all over me."_

_"Again?" smirk._

_"Fetch my clothes and bring some more water up here. Hot this time."_

_"Good thing I filled it with cold first, you know just in case you spilled it again.' smirk ''That's the third time this week isn't it? And you reckon I'm clumsy!"_

_"Merlin?” pause to throw boot at his goofy head as he turns back 'Shut up."_

The new boy, Percival was back already. How old was he? Fourteen? No way could Arthur have that kind of friendship with this servant, no matter how efficient the boy was. 

"The King and Queen are sitting to breakfast Sire, and insist that you join them. Will you require anything else my Lord?" 

"Clean those wet things, mop the floor, muck out my stables, urm and you know, general tidy up of my rooms - preferably before the stables. Your father will be released from the stocks at midday, I believe. You and your brother may take him some lunch before reporting back to me. His gambling debts were extensive and I'm afraid I require your services for a while longer until they are repaid."

"Yes Sire."

Arthur made his way to the King's chambers, following the sound of raised voices as his father and stepmother argued over breakfast. He wondered what the problem was now. Last week it had been the uniforms of Camelot's knights:  
"I'm sure the style had significance once and while very pretty they're too long to be practical," Sariah had stated.

" _Pretty?"_ Uther had repeated. The conversation deteriorated rapidly and Arthur had found its degeneration hilarious.

The topic up for discussion during the first "family" meal immediately after Sariah's release from the dungeon had been which rooms she would inhabit once they were married:  
"I am not using Ygraine's suite." 

"Well you are certainly not moving into mine!"

"Hah! We agree there at least. What has happened to Morgana's rooms?"

"Nothing, but,"

"She's not coming back is she?" 

"Not with her head on." Arthur had muttered into his goblet, causing Merlin to snort ridiculously then affect that overly serious aspect he wore after being a complete clot-pole. 

"They're hardly fit for a Queen, Sariah." 

"They'll do for a token queen. Ygraine's rooms should be left for Arthur's wife to use when he becomes king."

"He doesn't have a wife. Unless you are hatching another cunning plan?" Uther turned to Arthur.

"No, not today." Arthur pulled an unusual frowning fish face causing Merlin to snort again, drawing Uther's attention. 

"You have something to contribute?" Again Merlin donned that nonsensically solemn expression. 

"No Sire." 

"I think Morgana's rooms will suit perfectly, and that lovely maidservant who tended to my needs in the dungeon - what was her name again Arthur?"

"Guinevere, ah, Gwen." Arthur had the feeling Sariah was privately laughing at him.

"That's right! I would like the delightful Gwen as my personal attendant."

"Would this be the same Gwen who attended Morgana?" 

"I believe so." Arthur somehow managed to keep his voice disinterested and Merlin masked his chortle with a cough.

"So she already knows the ways of your court then, Uther? How serendipitous," Sariah had exclaimed brightly.

"Beg yours?" Arthur asked. 

"Destined to be," Merlin had explained in a murmur as he leaned forward and pretended to fill Arthur’s wooden cup with no subtlety at all.

Today's argument appeared to be related to this earlier one because Arthur heard Gwen's name mentioned before he entered the room. He decided to pretend ignorance for now and then jump into the fray should an opportunity arise. "Good morning Father, dear Ma'ma." Sariah touched his cheek affectionately as he gave her a sonly kiss. He had thought up this nickname for her once he’d cajoled Uther into marrying her.

"You're going to take her side. I see how it is! My own son conspiring against me!" said Uther. There was affectionate humour behind this serious and somewhat flustered observation.

"I only take her side when she's right. Are you right dear Ma'ma?"

"She thinks so - as always."

Arthur thought to himself _which makes her different from you, how exactly?_ "Shall I mediate? I promise to hear both sides before venturing an opinion." He grabbed a piece of toast and munched on a properly crunchy corner. He certainly didn't miss the soggy masses Merlin used to serve up. How can you mess up toast?? He didn't even have to cook it; just carry it up the stairs! Arthur lost all interest in toast after he suddenly developed the suspicion that Merlin may have spat on it in the past. Hmm, perhaps some fruit instead. 

"Pre-eminent husband first," said Sariah. Arthur saw disturbingly familiar facets to her expression which reminded him of Adelheid and knew his father had already lost this argument. The King just didn't know it yet. 

"She wants her maid to become her Lady-in-Waiting."

"Guinevere's not nobility," Arthur stated the obvious as he gestured to Sariah with a fuzzy peach. Maybe Uther would win this one. Sariah's glare sharpened. Or not.

"Your stepmother thinks she should be."

"Why?" Arthur was not incredulous because he thought it was a stupid idea as his father supposed, but because if Sariah succeeded then all opposition to Arthur's goal of marrying Guinevere disappeared. Uther had been right, as of this moment his son was conspiring against him. 

"Noble birth does not guarantee a noble life. Arthur has a man in the stocks,” Sariah began.

That phrase still caused Uther some pain as it had been the punchline of a lewd joke originating with the misinterpretation of the relationship between Crown Prince and his former manservant. It didn't help that Sariah favoured this particular jape and often used the phrase in Arthur's hearing, complete with naughty inflection. Uther had soon discovered his wife's sense of humour to be as depraved as his son's. Especially since Arthur always tittered right along with her. Some days he wished for the more distant parent-child relationship of the past.

"Yes I have," Arthur said with a straight face.

More tittering. Uther wished the daimone was still in his head. He shuddered as he remembered the creature’s obsession with Merlin's back and rapidly changed his mind.

"A _nobly born_ Knight of Camelot, arrested for excessive gambling and wenching. His debts were so large that Arthur bought them out and put his sons to work in the palace. There is a large sum still owing I believe." Sariah looked to Arthur for confirmation.

Arthur nodded as he finished the peach and reached for some cheese. "His eldest son Percival is an excellent valet. I'm considering hiring him permanently once the debt is cleared."

"I remember. This began before the notorious tourney that made this family what it is today.” Uther's tone indicated he was not entirely impressed with the current arrangement. “He's due for release today is he not?"

"Yes, and I've warned him that if he even goes near a house of ill repute, it's off to the dungeon with him and Beggar's Lane for his boys," said Arthur. 

Sariah resumed her argument. "Case in point: a noble birth but hardly a respectable life. Now my Guinevere: humble birth, a servant yet, honest, dedicated. Gwen has even been wrongly accused of using sorcery to poison Camelot's water supply. You had her innocent father killed, yet she still serves Camelot loyally, without question and at times at great personal risk. I dare you to find one knight or retainer who does not respect this woman, or who would honourably begrudge her advancement."

There was silence. Uther looked from his wife to his son. Arthur's expression was even more exultant than Sariah's. Uther was sure the boy had lured him into another trap. He sometimes felt like he was the newcomer to the family rather than his wife.

"Very well, I shall put her name forward at court." Uther flapped his napkin down onto the table and left the room muttering about conspiracies, ingratitude and the apparent attractions of a hermit's existence. 

Sariah winked cheekily at Arthur, who beamed triumphantly back and wondered how soon he could propose.


	3. Choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past and future are drawn together in the present as Arthur and Gwen prepare to marry. Merlin travels to Avalon to learn the truth behind the Dragonlords power and the legend of Emrys.

Arthur was cleaning out his room. Shocking though as that was, Merlin was unable to laugh at him because it was supposedly a serious undertaking. A lifetime of mementos were being rediscovered and discarded. At least some of it was being discarded, like the embossed box of boyhood treasures Arthur had stuffed behind the least favourite book on the shelf. This ornate box contained distorted coins, unusual buttons, a wooden ball that looked like a troll's eye and the skeleton of a deformed baby mouse.

"You were a lonely child weren't you Arthur?" 

Merlin quipped as Arthur exposed the tiny bones gently wrapped in a kerchief - similar to the wretched things Merlin wore around his neck when he first became Arthur's servant. Arthur pulled a face and made a juvenile "yewurrrgh" sound as he waved the fragile remains under Merlin's nose.

"Get off!" Merlin slapped it away and the bones scattered across the rug like hardened seeds on russet soil.

"Clean that up!"

"Shan't! I am no longer your dog's body."

"If my dog had your body Merlin, it would dig a hole then jump in and bury itself."

"Shut up. You said this would be a sombre occasion remember? I had a mind full of jokes about you being so useless the first time you tidied your room you were telling your children to do it for you."

"I forgot all about this weird childhood stuff, and if that was your best line please spare me the rest."

"Yeah, well, I've forgotten them all now you prat."

"So, who needs to grow up?"

They grinned at each other in the same boyish way as when they first truly became friends. It was odd how reminiscent Arthur had become since his future appeared brighter. Where before he had lived each day for the moment he now realised each sliver of the present was shaped by both past and future. Merlin had been taught that lesson by the Dragon Kilgarrah when he first came to Camelot seven years ago. The two friends wordlessly cleaned up the bones and tipped them along with some of Arthur's other ‘treasures’ into the ash bucket. It wasn't often they had time to be casual together now Merlin worked in Uther's library. Arthur missed this kind of nonsense, it was surprisingly liberating. His replacement servant, Percy performed his duties rapidly and without fuss, but was too young for quality social interaction. Arthur painfully flicked Merlin's buttock protruding from under the bed where his upper half was scrounging for bits of mouse. He laughed as Merlin hit his head and muttered "Arse" on his way out.

"Let's do the serious stuff then."

"There's no dust under there!"

"That's because Percy actually does his job." Arthur folded back a corner of the rust coloured rug and pulled up a small metal ring embedded in a floorboard. A square of boards lifted with it, revealing a secret compartment in the floor.

"I never knew that was there!"

"That's because you never actually did your job."

"Guess I'm a better scholar than servant, hey?"

"You are an enviable scholar Merlin, especially as you manage to plough through that heavy workload without using magic. If I'd known you were merely pretending to be an imbecile these past few years, I would have put your brilliant mind to better use. I never was one for study, too many distractions. Have you had much time for your own studies lately?" Arthur asked as he carefully removed a black velvet ribbon, bundles of ragged letters and a plain wooden box from the hidey hole. He placed these items reverently on his bed before replacing the secret door.

"At the moment they link in with the research your father requested,” Merlin said as he fixed up the rug, “finding non-magical methods to prepare against magical threats. Did you know that if magic is used against itself in some situations the results can be catastrophic? I was only aware of my own limits before, I didn't realise there were natural ones as well. For example: you can destroy things, like blow them apart,” he made an expanding gesture with his hands and a rather poor exploding sound, “but you can't unmake things." 

Arthur's expression indicated confusion. Merlin looked for a way to demonstrate and grabbed a tattered snippet from Arthur's bed.

"Take this paper, if I set fire to it...”

"Don't you dare!" Arthur pounced on Merlin and wrested the tatter from his grasp.  
The warlock straightened himself up, only briefly wondering what brought that on. Once on a trail of thought he didn't like to risk being led onto another before he arrived at the original terminus. "Okay, this string then, from the ash bucket full of things that you definitely do not want.” Merlin dangled the thread between two fingers over his other hand. His blue eyes flickered with strands of amber lightening. Arthur was always mesmerized yet slightly unnerved by this phenomenon, especially as it appeared to be evolving. Each time Merlin used his talents another golden fleck would remain in the blue - almost as if Merlin were slowly receding and Emrys drawing forth. Arthur quickly turned his eyes from Merlin's to the demonstration. The string flared in a minute fizzle of flame and crumbled into ash onto Merlin's waiting palm. “See, it's not string anymore, but the stuff that made it string is still there, just in a different form. You can't erase the stuff that things are made of because everything is made of the same stuff."

Arthur looked at the substance formerly known as string currently bespeckling the warlock's hand. "I understand the “can't erase stuff” stuff, but after that you lost me. Show me again with this ball."

Merlin rolled his eyes at his friend's thinly disguised demand for an encore. He really was a child sometimes. After watching Merlin toast the wooden ball, transfigure several buttons and transpose the sizes of the mouse bones, Arthur said he understood what he'd been trying to say.  
Arthur ran his fingers through the ash bucket to facilitate his thinking. "There's only so much, to simplify let's say ash, in the world. With this ash you can form air, fire, rock, people - but you can't make more ash. If you try to un-make the ash, everything is gone because the same ash runs through everything ever made."

"And you said you were a lousy student!"

"Father's tutors enjoyed their own knowledge. You enjoy the subject, making you a better teacher."

"Haven't finished learning myself yet,” Merlin admitted. “Remember what I just taught you? That's why I have to choose carefully when and how to use magic, especially in emotional situations."

"Good thing you didn't make my mace disappear that day you called me a prat."

"You mean every day?"

Arthur blew some ash off his fingers into Merlin's smirking face and rubbed the remainder into his dusky hair. While the prince washed his hands in the basin, Merlin looked at the paper that Arthur would not let him burn. The elegantly formed writing was barely visible. Merlin thought of Arthur holding the scrap and the words briefly appeared bold and freshly written: Don't you dare!

The spell mustn't have worked, that was just what Arthur had said when he snatched it back. Merlin traced the lines as they faded and felt the original imprint. No, that was actually what had been written, Arthur only knew how long ago.

"Don't you dare what?" Merlin waved it gently.

Arthur turned back to him and caressed the paper between finger and thumb before going to lay on the bed simply feeling it, looking at it like it were some historical artefact. As he began to talk, Merlin realised that to Arthur that's exactly what it was. The wizard sat cross-legged on the cushioned bed next to his friend's prostrate form.

"Kiss her, run away, flick ink into her mother's hair during writing lessons; anything and everything really. Those were the first three words she said to me, that she always said to me. It became a kind of joke between us."

"Adelheid? All these are from Adelheid? After Sir Iain and Uther separated you? And you wrote back?" Merlin asked.

Arthur nodded curtly. "She burned all mine."

Merlin rifled through them, astounded by the energy and dedication represented by just her side of their correspondence. All the letters began with ‘Arthur Pendragon, don't you dare...’ after which followed pages of platonic nothingness. Merlin understood immediately and his heart ached. He needed to know if Arthur knew what Adelheid meant. "When did you figure it out?" he asked.

"That Del was really saying I Love You and not telling me off? When she sent a message consisting a single word."

"Which was?"

"Congratulations. After I told her about kissing Guinevere."

"You told a woman who relentlessly adored you, who you originally intended to marry, that you loved someone else? You are the prattiest clotpole that ever poled a clot!"

"For a literate man you certainly mangle the language. Honestly, how could I know? Years of correspondence filled with handsome dashing knights all fighting for her affections. She was worse than Morgana!"

"So what did you do?"

"Whenever she went into raptures over someone else I told father he was a prodigy and had him posted here."

"So you're telling me that your closest circle of knights consists of rivals for your former girlfriend's affections? You really are a sadist. Why didn't you just tell her you were jealous, which is clearly what she wanted to hear?"

"Apparently because I'm the prattiest clotpole that ever poled a clot." Arthur rolled onto his back and covered his eyes roughly with both hands as though playing an aggressive version of peek-a-boo.

"See how much fun that is? This explains why you determinedly kicked arse in every tourney." 

Arthur reluctantly chuckled at that. "I'd already convinced myself we were nothing more than friends and fallen completely for Guinevere who, until very recently, was also not a viable option.” He removed his hands and sat up. “Understand now why I can't go on at her about Lancelot, even though I really, really want to?"

"You've fancied Gwen for years. Why have you still got these?"

"Don't make it more complicated. I can't keep them. I have no intention of destroying them and I certainly cannot let Guinevere or my father see them. But I have to do something. I can't move forward otherwise."

"I can't choose for you Arthur." Merlin's quiet response prompted Arthur to pace across the room.

"Then use that pros and cons prattle you torture me with before we go out and kill things."

"This isn't really quite same."

"It's still a matter of life and death Merlin; except it's Guinevere's life and Adelheid's death." Arthur silently considered his own words then reached a decision. He snatched the letters and ribbon from Merlin's hands. “Thanks for your alleged help. Shouldn't you be reading something?"

"Sure. Why not. Abandon me. Again!" Merlin called out as his friend ran off to deliver the letters to Del's mother.

*

Gwen watched Lancelot ride out of the city gates from her sitting room window, subconsciously wringing her skirt in her hands. Lady Guinevere was still unused to the finery befitting her new station and forgot it wasn't simply another apron she was strangling. 

Men! Why did everything to do with them have to involve such rigmarole? They claimed to be simple creatures, laying all the blame on women for making relationships difficult. What a lie that was! If they'd just listen life would run smoothly. Lancelot never listened. No matter how often she insisted all romantic feelings for him were in the past he kept trying to paint Arthur in a bad light. "If he loves you so much why has he distanced himself? Especially now there are no laws preventing your little romance? Why is the first person he seeks out when he wrangles his royal self some free time a former servant instead of his supposed great love?" 

The worst thing about her friendship with Lancelot was his knack for voicing her own distressing thoughts. It could also be the best thing in that it provided opportunities to argue against them aloud instead of only inside her head.

Gwen knew why Arthur had distanced himself, he'd told her in person and then more recently in writing. He wanted to be sure he wasn't acting impulsively out of grief. On his immediate return from Borthgard he had come to her house. He had knelt at her feet whilst she sat on the only bed, laid his tawny head heavily on her lap, arms about her waist as he related his emotional history with Lady Le Guin's daughter. Gwen's hands had lovingly stroked his hair, his face, the back of his neck as he confessed, staining her servants apron with tears. Even if marriage to Arthur remained impossible she could never love another man the way she loved him. He was so vulnerable, yet strong enough to be honest, to know when he couldn't cope alone and fearlessly ask for help. This experience prompted Gwen to visit Lady Sariah in the dungeon the next morning. Talking with Lady Sariah had opened Gwen's heart further to the sometimes impossible Crown Prince. 

The older woman described him as a boy who felt he had to repress the best parts of himself in order to fit the mould his royal father cast for him. Away from court protocol while he trained with the Le Guins for two years, most noble sons only required one year in the Borthgard camp but the young Pendragon had been infuriatingly obstinate, the young man revealed an ardent personality that drew everybody to him. Morgana, Merlin and Gwen had all felt Arthur's influence once they penetrated his pretentious veneer. Even Lancelot, as he hated to be reminded, was still impressed by the prince.

Gwen wondered how long she could remain alone without becoming lonely. Lancelot was persistent - annoyingly so, but he was always there when she needed him. There were worse fates than marrying a friend who, sometimes at least, understood what you were thinking. Besides they'd nearly died together several times. You couldn't share many life threatening situations without developing a deep connection.

There was a curiously hesitant knock at her door - even servants rapped sharply then barged in. Gwen went just as hesitantly to open it. Arthur's startlingly blue eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly as he saw her. It was impossible not to smile confidently in response to a look like that, and Gwen was certainly not averse to letting Arthur see her pleasure. She gave a flirtatious little twirl to show him all angles of her tailored creamy velvet gown.

"I'm glad you like it,” she quipped, “as I'm told you ordered it. The fabric feels divine and I love the colour...Are you alright?"

Only the Prince's eyes had moved since she opened the door. The look he gave her screamed that he wanted nothing more than to lock it behind him and ravish her right there. God help her, she wanted him to! Eventually he started to talk, attempt to talk, it took a while for him to become coherent.

"I came...I came...uhn hmm." He looked at the floor, took a breath then looked straight into her eyes, the warm brown eyes that were evidently pleased to see him. 

He hadn't expected an amorous welcome. Wanted: yes, more than anything. Deserved: he felt not. He deliberately avoided looking at her deliciously curved figure, displayed to best advantage in the gift he had chosen. He stroked a familiar finger softly down her cheek, a spontaneous reaction born of the emotional intimacy they shared. The physical had never ventured past a modest embrace even though the kisses were often heated. He respected her far too much to dishonour her with anything base, no matter how much it hurt. He began talking to stop himself kissing her in a way to make up for almost four months of neglect. 

"I apologize for leaving you, but never for loving you. I...I have known myself to be irrepressibly in love with you for a number of years now and despite my every attempt to step back so you would not suffer as I have, I could never let you go. Now, now the world has changed in a way for us to be together, I never want to part from you again. Whether clothed in velvet,” he touched the scalloped neckline of the gown and had to concentrate harder on his words, “or threadbare homespun you are the most beautiful woman I will ever lay eyes on."

His fingers slid down her arm and took her hand in both of his. Gwen could feel him shaking as he dropped to one knee on the floor, never breaking eye contact. If anyone knocked on that door now she would kill them, resurrect them and kill them again!

"Lady Guinevere, would you consent to be my wife?"

So simply worded, no flourish, pure, honest - no proposal would ever compare! Words were inadequate. Gwen kissed the hand resting on top of her own as she brought it to her lips. He was tan compared to many in Camelot so she always forgot how fair he really was. The contrast of their skin tones was something they both marvelled over whenever they touched because they were unaware of it any other time. Her free hand stroked the left side of his face from temple to chin where her thumb tickled across his naturally pouty bottom lip. She leaned down and kissed him then, a kiss so soft it melted against his lips like a warm snowflake. 

That was all the answer he needed.

** 

Merlin looked at the parchment before him. Could this be true? Did the Dragon Lords originally receive their power from Avalon? Was he the Emrys mentioned in this text? If so, he was not entirely human.

 _That would explain a lot_ , Arthur's dry voice proclaimed irritatingly in his mind.

Even when the prince of prat wasn't nearby he was part of Merlin. Growing up in Ealdor he'd thought Will would be the only friend to understand and accept him, not just as he was but as he could be. Learning that Morgana had the Seers Gift and other talents had made him hopeful that a female besides his mother could share his life, but that was certainly not going to happen. There had to be some woman somewhere who didn't mind that his eyes changed colour, or that he could rearrange the world through thought alone. As much as he loved Arthur, he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with him. Now that he'd proposed to Gwen she'd get most of his time anyway - if Golden Boy ever got around to asking his father to bless their union. When Merlin found himself a willing wife he wouldn't wait, IF he found one.

Why were women so obsessed with knights anyway? Impractical inventions really, only good for killing things, knocking out other knights and making masses of mess - which they never bothered to clear up themselves. Not to mention they smelled awful! Merlin always smelled "yummy" now he longer had to muck out stables, according to Gwen. His new role earned him better quality clothing and Gwen had updated his 'do, although his hair still went in whatever direction it wanted to. What was so bad about him? He rubbed the back of one hand along his recently shaved chin. Maybe if he stopped shaving and grew a beard... 

"Merlin!” Gaius snapped at him for what must have been the third time before he gained the young man's attention. “What are you doing here? Are you unwell?"

Merlin looked at his mentor and father figure. There was no denying that Gaius was on his final lap, Merlin doubted he would live to see the next winter solstice. "I needed to look at something in private, and it's raised a few questions. I was wondering if you'd help." 

"Oh?" The retired physician sat on the bench next to his pupil, gesturing with palsied hand to Merlin's document. The younger man slid it across the table for him to read. "What's this parchment made from? It's no plant fibre or animal skin I'm familiar with." 

"Me neither, that was one of my questions. Are you familiar with the name Emrys?" 

"Only in that it was the name by which Mordred and the stardaughters addressed you." 

"So you're not aware of this legend?" Merlin tapped the text.

"This is no human tale Merlin. These runes,” Gaius pointed shakily at various figures, “can be found on ancient magical artefacts throughout Albion. The gateway spoken of here grants mortals access to Avalon, but not necessarily home again - I've heard versions of that tale."

"True Tom? The mortal man who became consort to the Queen of the Fairies?" Merlin was stopped mid-snort by Gaius' expression. "Come on! That's not real!"

"Neither is the tale of a boy born with magical ability, who as a toddler could manipulate objects simply by thinking ‘This is how it should be’."

"Haven't heard that one...you mean me.” Merlin nodded humbly. “Point taken. So this part about Emrys, could that refer to me?"

"Well, the Great Dragon said you would bring magic back to the land..."

"Yeah, but this Emrys is supposed to take it away again, permanently when he dies. I mean, why bother?"

"These Faerie legends are about balance, Merlin. Perhaps this means some magic must flow into the mortal world and take some things with it as it returns to Avalon."

"Like an ocean tide?"

"Precisely!"

"Can this be me? If it is, I have to go to Avalon before Arthur becomes King if his reign is supposed to set the magic free."

"Merlin, you can't! Even if this account is true, you manage to open the gateway and successfully gain entry to Avalon, no mortal has ever come back!"

Merlin tapped the paragraph detailing the rise of the Dragon Lords. "Perhaps I'm not mortal. Besides, if nobody came back how have we heard of True Tom?" He rolled up the parchment and headed for the door.

"Don't be a fool boy! Think before you act!"

"Relax Gaius. I don't know enough to join the Sidhe just yet. I'm off to learn some more."

"He'll be the death of me," Gaius muttered as the door closed. Then he began puttering around making tea.

***

Crown Prince Arthur had given his manservant the same instructions several times. He had apologised after making the lad repeat the litany back to him: deliver the favour to the queen, return immediately once she formed a response.

"Sorry Percy, I keep forgetting you're not as inept as Merlin." 

Balancing the rose bud and card on a small silver plate, Percy knocked and entered the Royal family's private dining room.

Queen consort Lady Sariah Le Guin sat opposite King Uther Pendragon at the nearest end of a rectangular table larger than Percy's bed. The king waved him forward as his wife smiled warmly. As Percy accompanied Arthur to the training arena most mornings while queen and prince put knights through their paces, he was surprised by the difference in the Lady's demeanor. Less than an hour ago she had been hollering at knights for being lethargic, hair forced into a no-nonsense bun, face flushed from exhaustion, and telling Sir Alan he spent so much time with his girlfriend he was beginning to fight like her as Camelot’s Queen brought him to his knees with a single stroke. Here she appeared in a layered pastel gown with hair cascading down from a black ribbon in gentle curls. She would never be considered pretty, despite her mirthful hazel eyes and amiable expression.

"A message for you my Lady." 

"Thank you Percy, will you take a piece of fruit?" She offered a bowl to him with one hand, receiving her gifts with the other.

"Thank you my Lady." He gratefully selected a small plum before assuming his subservient position in the far corner. He'd refused once, much to her husband's amusement. As the queen fixed a scolding gaze on him reminiscent of his mother, Percy had quickly taken something to eat. He did not refuse again, none of the castle servants did.

A white rose bud was a prearranged signal to indicate that Arthur's proposal to Guinevere had been accepted. A fully open rose would indicate refusal. Sariah smiled with mixed emotions before opening the card. The message was simply:

Dearest Ma'ma.  
Help me persuade Father.   
XX

The Queen tapped the card thoughtfully against her cheek for a moment before tucking it into her sleeve with a sigh. Let the tourney begin.

"I don't like any of these women you have in mind for Arthur."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Sariah caught the beleaguered tone of her husband's voice, but missed the affectionate amusement in his eyes.

"Be nice,” she reprimanded archly as she popped a cherry into her mouth. “He can't be a good king if he's a miserable husband. He'll be too preoccupied with trying to escape from his wife."

"Are you insinuating I am a bad king?"

"No, what? I see: you are miserable."

Her playful banter ceased and her gaze became preoccupied with her napkin. Uther was silent, thinking as he ate. He hadn't been serious and had expected his wife to laugh it off. He was consistently amazed by the way she was so fearsome under arms and resolute at court while being so jubilantly carefree in private. The room now felt hollow without Sariah's laughter warming the cold stone walls.

"Not precisely miserable. Challenged and browbeaten at times, of a certainty, but I would not say miserable."

"I meant no disrespect. Pray, forgive me Uther." Her hazel eyes remained humbly hidden.

"No absolution necessary. These are my just desserts for marrying a feisty, independent woman." 

Sariah wondered briefly whether to risk her own surprisingly pleasant marriage by promoting her stepson's. She felt the love and respect he had always shown her even before becoming involved with Del deserved to be repaid and returned to the fray. "I will strive to be less tyrannical once we sort out the next generation."

Uther frowned at her return to formality, puzzled over her turn of phrase then concluded she referred to Arthur's marriage prospects. Suspicion dawned and Uther knew they'd outflanked him again. Sariah noticed the progress of his thinking and had the decency to blush. Uther dropped his cutlery onto the plate, wiped his mouth and gestured to Percy.

"Send in my son so we can get this over with."

Uther stood regally between table and door so Arthur would know he had lost all advantage. Let his wife and child see that he too, could play their game. Percy ushered his master in and hurriedly exited again. Before Arthur could begin to address his father the king spoke.

"You have found yourself a potential wife." It was not a question and as expected Arthur's strategy was thwarted.

"Yes..."

"About time. Is she human?"

"Absolutely." Arthur's face resembled a grumpily confused cod and Uther stifled a laugh behind his royal mask.

"Good enough! You have my blessing."

The king returned to luncheon as his son stood by the door gobsmacked. Uther wished Merlin were here to add his derisive snort to make this victory complete. Even a king can't have everything. He paused, freshly loaded fork halfway to mouth when he turned as if surprised to see Arthur still gaping like a fish. "Why haven't you left yet?"

"urm...You didn't ask her name..." 

Uther was enjoying himself immensely, watching his over-confident progeny disintegrate into a babbling idiot while his treacherous wife tried unsuccessfully to stifle her chortles. Sariah began snorting almost as adroitly as Merlin. Queen and Prince would not dare corner the King again after this.

"No need. Your stepmother evidently approves your choice and the two of you would just drive me insane should I object. Though I believe if you had any respect for the young lady you would not have abandoned her as she awaited news of her fate.” He turned to Sariah and delivered his killing stroke. “Honestly Beloved, didn't our son learn any manners at that school of yours?"

Arthur collapsed into the nearest chair, utterly bamboozled by the whole exchange.

Sariah laughed openly, tears and hiccups causing her to signal surrender. "I yield! Please, Your Majesty, no more." When she finally managed to catch her breath the queen stood and curtseyed deeply before her king. "Pray forgive me for underestimating you my Husband. I shall never forget this day's lesson." Sariah felt the solemnity of her declaration was undermined by the slight giggle that escaped during "never" until Uther lightly took her hand and kissed it.

"Be sure that you don't." He did not release Sariah’s hand as he stood to address his son. "Let's hope this display has not frightened away your lady love. Before I properly grant my blessing I must ask you some serious questions."

Arthur sat straight in his chair and rather than affect defiance as per his wont, nodded in obedience.

"Firstly, why this particular woman?"

"I love her."

"Remarkable! Why?"

"She taught me to think of others before myself, and the importance of expressing gratitude. I have seen her work herself into exhaustion to relieve the suffering of others. She has called me back from death only to be asked to wait for me when life interfered. Not always patiently, but considering how many worthier men pursued her I believe the fact that she waited for me a miracle in itself. A room feels cold without her in it, no matter how many fires are lit. I strive every day to be a better man to prove myself worthy of her."

Uther found nothing to argue against as his son waxed eloquent, nodding his acknowledgement. "You know this Lady well?" he asked his wife, retaining her hand.

"Intimately."

"Does she love my son? Not for what he is or may become, but as he is?"

"The Lady has alternately wished she could love him less or that he held a less prestigious position. Their love has endured many obstacles."

"Son, I asked you earlier if she were human and you said absolutely. How extensively have you checked?"

Sariah, unfamiliar with the incident involving a troll disguised as the Lady Katrina, gasped with a blush and hit her husband's arm with her free hand. "Such impropriety, Uther!"

Arthur also reddened and fidgeted in his seat. "Not that extensively!"

"How did you manage to find a virtuous, compassionate woman strong enough to tame a callow youth and mould him into a man? Recently elevated to a level appropriate to marry a future King without opposition?" Uther was a clever man and realised this particular game had begun during his wife's imprisonment. Arthur proved quite the strategist. The Queen was aware she began this game as a Pawn, and didn't care. She would support the Knight's every move as he aspired to become a King. Uther knew who the Lady in question was. "You have been accepted?" he asked.

"Yes." The joy in his son's eyes was infectious. Uther placed his wife's arm upon his own so he may escort her properly from the room.

"Then let us welcome the delightful Lady Guinevere into our devious little family. The poor girl must be beside herself."

****

Merlin had found the information he needed quite rapidly - he did have certain advantages after all.   
He had approached the king fearing his desire to study abroad would be questioned. Uther was impressed with the young man's intense research to date and happily granted him leave, suggesting he depart after Arthur's wedding.

"You may have begun as a servant but you have largely served him as friend. I know there is no other man Arthur would wish to stand at his side on this occasion, yet fears my disapproval in his choice as tradition states he must be attended by a nobleman. No member of this royal court has dedicated so much to preserving my son's life and I wish to honour you accordingly by granting his request. Will you accept?"

"Yes, Your majesty!"

"Good. As you just have to stand there, there should be no opportunity for you to goof it up."

*****

Merlin was invited to dine with Gwen and Arthur in what remained for now Gwen's house. He was surprised to see Lancelot had been invited too. In an act of gallantry the Prince had filched the evening's feast from the castle kitchens and the trio were already seated when Merlin arrived.

"Congratulations," Merlin beamed to his friends, hugging Gwen, who quite happily kissed him, and then Arthur. 

Arthur awkwardly patted Merlin's shoulder until he saw Gwen's knowing smirk and then earnestly embraced him back. "Thank you Merlin.” To his wife he murmured, “I am not kissing him."

"I'd rather like to see that!" she boldly retorted before kissing her husband-to-be and leading him by the hand back to the table.

Lancelot greeted him with a handshake. "Magic Man."

"Lancelot. Why are you here?"

"So they can collectively rub my nose in it."

"Me too!"

"Shut up you two."

"Yes father." Merlin chorused.

"Arthur's right, you really are a girl."

"Please boys,” Gwen interjected. “You're my dearest friends and I have a bit of a problem..."

"I see it,” Lancelot cut in. “That blond thing over there."

"Show my future wife some respect please, she's trying to ask for your help...Lance-a-bit." Arthur and Merlin sniggered at this dig until Gwen's frown pulled them up short.

"Honestly, I'm surrounded by children. Don't think I'll bother."

"Sorry my Love. Lancelot." 

Gwen smoothed the front of her dress in agitation. Lancelot reached out to take her hand and felt a sting as he saw Merlin had done it first. 

"You are all aware my father was killed a few years ago, at Uther's command. As further apology for his actions the King is allowing us to choose our wedding attendants, rather than foisting noble strangers upon us. Merlin…"

"Can't Gwen, sorry. I'm Arthur's. Uther just, paid me a big compliment really and asked me on Arthur's behalf." Merlin remained a tad bewildered by that event.

"Oh, well I was asking you on his behalf actually."

"I can ask for myself!" Arthur insisted.

"You can't even dress yourself!" Gwen and Merlin shot back.

"Didn't bother you this morning did it?" 

Gwen blushed furiously as Merlin and Lancelot turned to each other, astonished by Arthur's lapse.

"Ahm, I...joking...there was no...nothing happened. Hurry up Guinevere and ask Lancelot so we can eat."

"Lancelot, you are my dearest friend, more than a friend, like family. Would you take my father's place and escort me down the aisle?"

"You want me to give you away, to him? It would be less painful to have him run a sword through me!"

Lancelot looked despairingly at his love and his former friend before storming out the door. Merlin and Gwen rose but Arthur gestured for them to stay.

"His quarrel is with me, I'll handle it." Arthur deliberately left his weapons on the unused bed and lithely ran to the street.

"Lancelot, please. Show Gwen you love her by respecting her wishes, or risk losing her altogether."

"Easy for you to say."

"It most certainly is not! Do you think I want you anywhere near her? Before we were rivals we were friends and I know you Lancelot. I know it could just as easily be me in your place. But I'd do it if she asked me too. If saying no meant breaking her heart or never seeing her again...I would rather give her to you and remain her friend than put my heart's desire before Gwen's and lose her respect."

Lancelot looked at Arthur, felt compelled to look and was astounded to see that he meant every word. He was right. Gwen would be devastated if he placed his own carnal desire above her purer need. She'd chosen Arthur and Lancelot could either support her or let her fall. He conceded defeat and returned to tell her he would happily stand beside her.

Now the only thing causing her distress was the loss of her father's buttons.

"They'll turn up Gwen,” Arthur said confidently as they kissed goodbye at the end of the evening. “I promise I won't let you get married without them."

It was such an odd thing to say that Gwen chose to let it rest.

****** 

Arthur took the simple box from its hiding place and presented it to Gwen's dressmaker. "I would like you to fashion a band for the bride's left wrist from the same fabric as her wedding gown, and attach these to it."

The seamstress looked inside to find a handful of buttons she’d expect to see on a peasant's best clothing and scoffed. "These, my Lord?"

He imperiously raised a hand to stop her scorn. "These simple buttons come from the last gift Lady Guinevere's father presented to her before his death. The garment they were originally attached to has literally been worn to tatters or I would have brought some of that too. You feel it will not be suitable to adorn my Queen? Make it so! Oh, and fix some of those little tinkly things Lady Sariah wears on her belt to the end of the fastenings. Their sound always makes Guinevere smile." Arthur’s own smile eclipsed the sun. "Another thing, don't let her see it. My mother will give it to her."

The seamstress tearfully consented. If Arthur treated Camelot the way he treated his wife, he would be a glorious king.

*******

Lancelot and Sariah stood in the antechamber to the Great Hall with Gwen. Her bridal gown was palest gold and complemented her skin in a way guaranteed to torture Arthur. It certainly worked on Lancelot. The darker gold brocade panel down the centre sparkled with tiny gemstones, lightly scattered to make it appear she had been sprinkled with stardust. Merlin had provided the spell-cast crystals in a myriad of colours to represent love, luck, longevity, wealth, health and joy. He had only forgotten fertility, the seamstress had joked.

Sariah opened a small silk-wrapped bundle. "It is traditional for the bride to receive gifts from her groom's parents in accepting her into their family, and from her own in surrender. It gives me great joy to present them to you now." About Gwen's neck she placed a fine gold chain. "This was to be given to Ygraine one year after Arthur's birth. It is Uther's gift to you." Next Sariah revealed an elegantly carved ivory comb before placing it in Gwen's sculpted hair. "This truly belonged to Ygraine. I gave it to her during our friendship and so it is a gift from both of us. And finally,” her voice softened as she presented the plain wooden box Gwen had been searching for, “a gift from your father." The warrior queen's eyes shone as Gwen discovered what Arthur had done.

The young Lady hiccupped his name, forcing the back of her hand to her mouth as tears threatened. "I don't deserve him," she whispered, expressing her lingering fear and insecurity. This could not be real, just some impossibly long, marvellous dream. Sariah gently held Gwen's shoulders as Lancelot caught the box before it slipped completely from her fingers.

Looking at the simply beautiful design, his breath caught. Lancelot would never have thought of something like this. He knew why he had lost and no longer resented Arthur's victory. Clearing his throat he bound the gift about Gwen’s left wrist. The tinkle of tiny bells brought a reflexive smile to her lips. "Yes you do Gwen. Only you could stand beside Arthur as his equal and I now realise that he truly deserves you." Lancelot's eyes did not contradict his words. He bowed and kissed her hand. "May I escort you to your Prince my Lady?"

Gwen accepted his offered arm as Sariah sent the message that the bride was ready.   
"You may."

"Then let's not leave Golden Boy waiting."

********

As predicted, Arthur had been devastated by the appearance of his bride and was not quite coherent when they exchanged their vows. Gwen fared no better; Arthur was a gilded vision. His attire complemented hers: dark gold with a pale contrast, but without any rainbow sparkle. Merlin had instead cast the same enchantments on the braided chord that joined the differing fabrics - at the last minute remembering fertility. The Prince's golden head did not turn from Guinevere's progress down the aisle, not even to acknowledge his father's comment.

"She positively glows!"

"Merlin, stop it," Arthur muttered through his smile.

"It's not me doing it,” Merlin whispered back triumphantly. “That's coming from you! Everyone in this room is seeing her the way you do. Wish I'd taken her hints now."

Without shifting his gaze Arthur hit Merlin up the back of the head. Merlin's grin stayed put.

"Who presents this woman in marriage?" the celebrant asked.

"I, Sir Lancelot, most readily present Lady Guinevere to Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot for the purpose of becoming his wife. Wilt thou Arthur Pendragon accept her hand?" The formal words were thick with emotion. Golden Boy's eyes briefly left his miraculous bride to hold Lancelot's.

"With all my heart do I accept your most precious treasure, Friend Lancelot."

Gwen kissed Lancelot's cheek as he placed her hand in Arthur's, who kissed her fingertips, eyes locked again on her face. It was done. Lancelot had given her up. Merlin smiled at him and Lancelot was surprised to find himself smiling back. Instead of feeling crippling agony he felt lighter, free. As wedding promises were made he cast an accusatory glance at Merlin. Was his friend altering his emotions with magic? Merlin replied with a negatory shake of his head.

A noblewoman watching the Royal couple finally being presented as "Mr and Mrs" was momentarily distracted by the play of emotions across Lancelot's face and obviously approved of what she saw. Lancelot acknowledged her scrutiny with a wink, causing her to smile flirtatiously. Perhaps there were more fish in the sea.

*********

Gaius, Gwen, Lancelot and Sariah had been farewelled leaving only Arthur. Merlin grabbed his kit and set off for the unfamiliar rooms. Arthur and Gwen had been moved to a larger suite purposely built for the widowed mother of an earlier king. A large scale move was deemed more appropriate than introducing a Lady into Bachelor Territory by all concerned parties. 

Rather than risk getting lost - again - Merlin reached out with his mind and followed the trail of Arthur's familiar presence. As he focussed he clearly saw the passage of different people as multi-coloured ribbons of plasmic light. No two paths were the same colour. Arthur's gold was crossed briefly by Gwen's lilac before she headed for the baths. A number of other feminine strands headed that way and Merlin was merrily distracted by improper thoughts until he collided with a wall. 

Merlin found Arthur seated with his feet on a rather girlie breakfast table, crunching noisily on an apple. The newlywed waved his friend in, trying to hurry his mouthful. 

"My wife told me you'd be coming by.” Arthur's delight each time he said ‘my wife’ was more exultant than Sariah's declarations of ‘Arthur has a man in the stocks’. Merlin had long thought that impossible. “Judging by the bulging pack at your back this is a goodbye visit. Mother and I must have been a bad influence on my wife and yourself...I suddenly understand my father. Will you be gone long?" 

"Only for a month or two - hopefully. You won't be able to follow me but there's a way we can communicate while I'm away. It's called scrying. Look into any reflective surface: cup of wine, mirror, a clean spoon, or whatever and speak my name. I'll be able to hear you wherever I am." 

Arthur sat forward. "This isn't some quest for glory and recognition is it? I know people don't often give you the respect you deserve..." 

"You're always giving it to me Arthur." 

The friends' eyes sparkled with suppressed mirth as the wizard's comment reminded them both of Camelot's second most popular Prince Arthur joke. 

"Rest assured Merlin, I will never, ever give it to you, no matter how often you give it to me." 

Arthur adeptly flipped an uneaten apple at Merlin where it froze an arm’s length in front of him. His friend casually reached out and plucked it from the air. There was nothing more to say except goodbye and saying this, the wizard turned to the door. 

"Merlin?” Arthur called less confidently, rising slightly from his seat, prompting his friend to turn back. “Don't you dare do anything stupid while I'm not there to protect you." 

"Don't you dare put yourself in mortal peril while I'm not here to save you." 

It may have been expressed in an indirect manner, but their meaning was clear. 

No matter what lay ahead, their friendship would survive.


	4. Be'were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of sinister attacks by impossible creatures leads to Uther's death. Merlin is summoned back from Avalon and discovers Mordred is behind the attacks. Merlin's companion (a daughter of the Sidhe Queen) suspects a deeper conspiracy involving Puck.

Arthur Pendragon was stern in the discipline of his knights. Each flaw in uniform, strategy or chivalry was marked as a personal insult. Any man singled out subsequently felt shame in his imperfection, as if he had betrayed the Prince's trust. On campaign Arthur did not set himself above the others, suffering the same deprivations though with less complaint. After every skirmish he moved through the camp offering praise and condolences as each instance required. None were beneath his notice. He knew all who fought with him by name - their hopes, strengths and fears. Even the grooms were aware he would die with them to protect his beloved Camelot. This was why a small contingent now sought the Prince rather than the King.

During petitions the Prince held audience with his enchanting wife in a small, lesser used hall than that used by the King and Queen. Pendragon standards alternating with subdued tapestries depicting Camelot's history adorned these walls. The chairs used by the younger royals were elegantly simple and comfortably cushioned. As usual their hands were casually entwined as they discretely discussed the previous issue. In time Arthur gestured for the knights to approach. He did not command them to kneel.

"Prince Arthur, Lady Guinevere."

One forgot to address the Lady at his or her own peril. People tended to spend a day in the stocks for disrespecting the Prince's wife. Gwen hated sitting here with people watching her, speaking sparsely to the petitioners. However she endured to support Arthur, all the while smiling politely and wishing she were scrubbing chamber pots instead. 

"Sir Edmund. Your party returns diminished from the village of Cameron?"

"Alas Your Highness, young Tiernan received a wound while scouting in the forest, becoming infected. He died just before we left."

"Tiernan, son of Tristan?" asked Arthur.

"That's right Sire."

Arthur commissioned Percy to add Tiernan's name to the commiseration list. As a leader in Camelot's army the Prince felt it his duty to personally draft letters of sympathy to families of those who perished in his service. "Report," he commanded Edmund.

"We encountered the beast only twice, on consecutive days in the seven weeks we were there. It most closely resembles a wolf - should a wolf grow to the size of a horse and have horns."

Hunter's instinct prompted Arthur to drop Gwen's hand as he leaned forward. He hadn't tracked anything more aggressive than a stoat in weeks.

"Should a horse be able to walk like a man," another knight added.

"The wolf runs as capably on two legs as four. For all its size it makes no noise as it hunts," Sir Edmund continued.

"Prey?"

"Only people - never livestock."

Arthur swore lustily than sat regally back. "Fatalities?"

"The people of Cameron believe there were seven fatalities Sire, though only five were confirmed by ourselves."

"Mer...Percy. These men and I require immediate audience with the King. Sir Alan, tell those waiting they will be heard tomorrow. If you will excuse me my love?"

Gwen nodded, rising to receive his parting kiss. Arthur often caught himself addressing the absent Merlin. At first his brow would wrinkle as he pouted and swore quietly at himself. After five months he recovered quickly but their friend was never far from mind. This loyalty - amplified by that pout of course - was what had attracted Gwen to her husband in the first place. He would act immediately to save another, even a stranger. It meant he would always be quick to leave her, fretting for his safety, but she could not have loved him otherwise. He hurried back to her just as quickly which made each separation seem worth it. She watched him stride from the room with his arm about Sir Edmund's shoulder as if he were not a subordinate but an equal. 

He might not be going to Cameron, like Gwen could stop him, so there was no point worrying about Arthur yet. Merlin however, she felt perfectly justified in worrying about. Almost five months and no word. Arthur wouldn't, or couldn't, say where his best friend had gone.

Where was Merlin?

*

It did not take long to find and pass through the gateway to Avalon. He hadn't even had to touch the rune marked stones. The markings blazed invitingly, bringing forth the matching glow from his own eyes as he approached. The current of magic swirled about him like amber mist, caressing his skin and hair, seemingly sighing welcome home. If anyone had watched Merlin step through the stones they would have been astonished to see him vanish mid-stride.

**

Time moved differently here, as did light. The air was thinner, purer, refreshing his skin like cool water on a hot day. Colours belonging to an unfamiliar spectrum shone everywhere. Creatures left imprints of their passage as lingering distortions in this light. The holistic nature of the world was obvious to him - every interconnection tangible. His own place in this universal fabric was visible, as was Arthur's...and surprisingly Mordred's. Merlin could see how their lives tangled into snarled knots, drifting apart only to converge again and again, culminating in a complex weaving whose completed design still escaped the wizard. He was unaware of how far he travelled, feeling no hunger, thirst or fatigue. Whether he walked for hours or years was uncertain. No wonder men craved immortality! 

"Warlock!" a voice gruffed from the ether. 

Merlin turned to see no-one. A path shimmered into existence at his feet and he heard the music of laughter ahead. Confused, but without fear, he stepped forward. Every movement caused gentle ripples through the air like sand tossed into a pond. He deliberately softened his tread over a vast distance until his transit caused no disturbance at all.

"First lesson complete," gruffed the same voice as before.

Still Merlin was alone. The distant laughter had not ceased yet he had not heard it during this exercise. He tried again, focusing on hearing as well as moving. Again it felt an age had passed before he clearly heard even minute sounds around him while causing minimal impact on his surroundings.

"Second lesson complete," gruffed the voice.

Merlin fought the temptation to hurl his pack in the direction it came from, instead swearing in a low growl at his boots. He thought about the laughter and thought that was where he needed to be...

...and there he was. He was still cussing his feet when he realised this was a different place. His mouth twisted to one side in confusion. He hadn't moved yet here he was. ‘How did I do that?’ He wondered.

"That will be your final lesson." This voice was not gruff.

He turned to his right and saw a magnificent woman holding court among a cavalcade of creatures: hominid, quadruped, vaporous; varying in colour and size, though none were as tall as the woman who spoke.

"Welcome Emrys,” she continued. “You honour us with your presence." Her voice had a dark, rich timbre and her clothing did not appear to be on her body so much as part of it. She stood taller than any man Merlin had met yet remained graceful and alluring with long hair similarly coloured to Arthur's and lightly sun-kissed skin. Her hand lilted on the shoulder of an obsidian-coated stallion with amber eyes.

Merlin regretted standing like a buffoon in front of the Queen of the Seelie Court, quickly recovering the manners Arthur had drummed into him. "My Lady. You have many names, by which may I call you?"

"You are wise to recognise the power of particular words, as their meaning shapes existence. You may call me Joy, as many of my titles mean."

"What does Emrys mean?"

"To us it means Hope."

"That's my true name?" He felt childishly offended, imagining Arthur smirking _“That's a girl's name Merlin, because you're a complete girl.”_

Joy’s fine stallion suddenly assumed the human form of Finvarr, King of the Daoine Sidhe. There was no sound, no visible shifting to mark the change. His hair was still glossy black only tousled instead of sleek, skin faintly gilded, his eyes were now almond shaped but still that same shade of amber as Merlin's when his magic flared. "That is what you are." Finvarr’s voice was so resonant Gwen's deceased father would have sounded like a eunuch in comparison. Women, and not a few men, would be in thrall to his every word. "What Albions call Old Religion is more accurately named theft. The priesthood tapped into the magic that binds all creation and manipulated it for personal gain. Equilibrium was destroyed. Creation was divided, but not equally. We retreated into one plane of existence, leaving the other to humankind. You live in the time of repair. It is your destiny to complete this division- hence you are hope. The literal meaning of your name is Immortal One."

As Merlin remembered the document that led him here in the first place it appeared in his hand. He frowned at it then waved it at Finvarr. "But this says I have to die for balance to be restored!"

"Verily Emrys, your mortal coil forges a link with Liam," the Faerie King began.

"Else you would not understand how he suffers." Joy completed her husband's thought, walking around Merlin, curiously touching his hair and skin. Her touch was weightless. Merlin noticed he was more opaque than those around him. His eyes widened as he remembered the purport of Liam, it resonated within him.

"Arthur is Liam: the Determined Guardian." The name described his friend perfectly, defining his relationship with Camelot. Merlin was startled when Finvarr responded to this unspoken revelation.

"Restoring Albion's equilibrium is but a sliver of Liam's destiny. He protects something far more consequential." 

"What's more important than that?"

Finvarr transformed himself into Arthur, using his voice to repeat the Prince's parting words: "Don't you dare do anything stupid while I'm not there to protect you." 

The last three words echoed through Merlin's mind, adding the implied emphasis: to protect you! 

Merlin crumbled.

***

Where was Merlin? The younger Pendragon asked himself again after kissing his equally concerned wife goodbye. As his men gathered around him in the courtyard making final preparations for the sojourn to Cameron, Arthur contemplated scrying his friend. What would he say?  
 _Hullo Merlin, five months is a wee bit longer than one or two.  
Haven't heard from you in a while.   
Getting a bit worried.   
Hurry home.   
Miss you._  
Hardly earth-shattering stuff. Besides, if something were wrong Arthur would just, know, wouldn't he? 

Thoughts and knightly clatter were silenced by the Field-Marshall voice of his stepmother who strode fully armed toward him. "ARTHUR PENDRAGON, GET OFF THAT HORSE!"

His mother had died in childbed so Arthur had never experienced a maternal scolding before. He had however witnessed this behaviour used on others and wisely obeyed Sariah’s command. None of the knights dare laugh at him. Arthur wanted to argue that he wasn't missing this hunt but couldn't see how to do it without sounding like a petulant child. Sariah outranked him and made sure he knew it.

"May I ask why?" his calmly voiced question had the desired effect. Sariah's tone changed from military to familial as she lovingly removed his helmet and sword.

"One: I'm not letting you have all the fun. Two: Uther needs to get off that throne and actually do something, and three: you're Camelot's only heir. Your sole duty at this time is to change that and dead men can't procreate. Instead of stalking monstrosities through the forest you need to be chasing your pretty wife around that big bedroom. Make sure you catch her too!" 

Her saucy laugh followed the flustered Prince into the castle as the king came out. Uther failed to contain his mirth as he clasped his son's shoulder with a smile. "Do as she says, Son. There's a good boy."

**** 

Merlin awoke upon a bed of tufted grass with a scattering of fragrant petals as cool water trickled over his lips and into his mouth which welcomed the refreshment. With a flirtatious smile he prepared to greet his nurse. The smile melted into a grimace as he peered not at a beautiful fey maiden but a freckled mortal male who chuckled heartily at the younger man's reaction.

"Not what ye expected lad?" his accent was reminiscent of the woad raiders from the north.

"Ah, not quite. No."

"The King an’ Queen thought it best a mortal restore ye to health. Alas I am the only being in Avalon who meets that requirement, Thomas by name."

"True Tom?"

"Ye've heard of me an’ my curse then?” Thoams asked. Merlin nodded. “Then ye'll ken I cannae lie to you, which ye'd best remember as all else here only tell the truth if they summat to gain from it. Sit up lad, ye need to it."

"It?"

"Food y'dullard. Yer immortal soul won't remember to tend to yer mortal body doon here so's ye must pay cloose attention to how oft yer it an drenk."

Merlin's mind was still exhausted but he found if he ignored Tom's voice he could recognise the picture of his thoughts even as he concentrated on the food before him.

"You learn quickly," Joy's voice flowed over them.

Tom stood to greet the Queen who kissed him warmly. That part of the tale was also true then. With a husband like the incomparable Finvarr why would Joy fancy a pale, brown eyed northerner? Merlin figured there was hope for him yet. "Not quickly enough considering how much there is to learn," he replied between mouthfuls.

"When he is restored to health take him to Clara.” Tom raised a questioning eyebrow to his Queen, “You will remain to keep Emrys safe from her tricks.” Joy lightly brushed her fingers across Merlin's forehead. “You need you rest, sleep now."

And he did.

****

Uther gestured sharply to his warrior wife who nodded briskly and broke away with a handful of knights, moving into position as silently as possible. The forest left little room to manoeuvre so the soldiers moved on foot, leaving their mounts picketed in the village of Cameron. Gaius also waited there. Uther had faith in no other man's knowledge, although his elderly friend had taught Merlin well. A terrified local man led the king's party as he tracked no longer one, but three beasts. This most recent victim had been a child and while there was a trail of blood they found no gore, evidence the child was being carried back to the beasts' lair. 

"There is a depression in the rock, here Your Majesty, as if masking a possible passage into the ground." The man's voice was low, without wavering to betray the depth of his fear. 

"You have done well. Return to your family with this reward for your bravery." Uther passed him some coins and readied his party to clear the obstruction as the man left swiftly. 

"The passage angles smoothly downward Sire and then flattens out some ways in. How shall we proceed?" Sir Leon asked the King.

"Stand firm out here, ready to defend yourselves should any creature emerge. Once my Lady signals we shall know if there is another access point and then form a plan." 

"The Queen's a brave woman Sire and could take it upon herself to act without your permission." 

"You mean she's an intimidating woman and could quite probably neutralise this threat on her own.” The king smiled at his surprised companion. “I take it you've heard the story of the woad raiders." 

"How Lady Le Guin, as was, sent three of them running off with only a stick whilst in skirts? Yes sir." 

"Kindly refrain from repeating that travesty." 

"Sorry Sire." 

"Three ran off, yes, but there were originally four. Sariah killed one, unarmed, wearing only her undergarments. That is the true version of events, as her astonished brother told me." 

A shrill whistle sounded from deeper in the woods, followed by two imitation owl hoots. Her party had found two more entrances and were ready to proceed. 

"When Arthur insisted I marry her, I seriously considered running away,” Uther confided as his men signalled in return. “I still might."

*****

Fire was Sariah's preferred method of trapping beasts in their dens but this was not an option since there was a possibility the child lived. Instead they would have to rely on brute force, potentially putting every member of her party at risk. This is what she hated about battle: balancing lives against each other. Who was she to prioritise one life over another? How could anyone judge? This is why Sariah was such a formidable warrior and why her stepson admired her so: she was only willing to exchange her life rather than ask others to sacrifice theirs. "Alan, Edmund, Duncan remain at this thicket, we'll try to flush them out through the passage that opens up in the middle of it. Douglas, Kieran, return with myself to the hollow tree. Bevan to the King, tell him our plan."

Sariah led her men to their access point where they further weakened the dead tree's roots. Their intention was to invert it into the hole behind them and set fire to it, moving quickly to avoid smoke inhalation while hoping those toxic fumes would diminish their scent. Finally the thing came out of the ground. The three of them turned the stump around then gave the signal: a whistle to signify they were in position and a hoot for every escape route located. On receiving Uther's signal they hauled the dead wood into the tunnel behind them where she had Kieran, one of her favourite pupils, set it alight with a word. Sariah did not agree with her husband when it came to magic and had no intention of telling him so. Sariah Le Guin was brave and stubborn, oh yes, but she was definitely not stupid. "Right gents, no heroics. Get in, get the job done, get out." 

"M'Lady!"

They trotted quietly through the soft earth as tendrils of smoke whispered toward the ceiling and passed their lowered heads. Sariah loved this part: the strategy, the pursuit. If she'd actually enjoyed killing things she would have been a fanatical hunter. She knew Arthur hated missing this, but it was the only revenge she could exact on him for betraying her daughter.

******

Clara was diminutive, dark in both features and nature, and held the mortal warlock completely in her thrall. Her teaching style was turbulent, encouraging argument to exercise independent thought and Merlin used the strategies he'd employed as Arthur's servant to full effect. He learned rapidly, but Clara never let him know that, only worked harder to find flaw in his progress. More than once Tom had intervened to limit her cruelty, and once he had intervened to protect her from Merlin. 

"The Daimones are fire and mostly air. Most mortal humans are only earth which smothers fire, yet air travels through earth." Clara spoke as if Merlin was less than a decade old.

"No it doesn't. Earth is too heavy for air to move through."

"You really are dense aren't you? Must be that earthen shell weighing you down.” Clara laughed meanly. “Of course air travels through earth. How else could the stones sing of the coming of the Phoenix?"

"What's a Phoenix?" Merlin asked.

"Nothing yet, it will only be born once magic is returned fully to Avalon: the balanced soul of fire and earth combines with the balanced soul of water and air to create the only soul to possess all four elements in equilibrium - the Heart of Creation. When earth and water are shed in sorrow, so the Phoenix Immortal will rise in love."

"What are you prattling about?"

"The prophecy that came into being as a result of the great theft,” Clara told him impatiently. “It constantly reverberates between the stars and the earth's core. Don't you hear it with those enormous ears of yours? Aren't they shaped like that specifically to channel the promise of the Phoenix into your thick head?"

"Why would my thick head need to hear that twaddle?"

Clara slapped him both physically and mentally. "Dumbarse! The gold dragon has the only soul of equal parts fire and earth - that is where his magic lies, therefore ..."

"My magic lies in water and air. We are the Phoenix?"

"Not yet. Only when you become one..."

"Not happening - ever!"

"Not like that Thicky MacThick-Thick. I cannot believe our entire existence relies on such an idiot! Haven't you been listening? It has nothing to do with bodies. Pity really, or I'd kill you off and have a go at your prince myself. I'm growing tired of Puck. Besides being stupid you're also useless. I'm far more capable."

Infuriated by her heartless manipulation and hormonally frustrated, Merlin had drawn energy from Clara’s own life force to prove his capability to her.

Tom waited until her form dimmed and started to flicker before stopping Merlin with a word. "Enough."

Merlin returned Clara’s magical energy with such aggression that she literally flipped head over heels. The air about the warlock crackled as he strode to her prone form, drew her into his arms with a thought and leaned in to kiss her.

"That's no way to treat your sister! Even here." True Tom’s voice smashed through Merlin’s consciousness.

Merlin deflated and Clara drifted to the ground. "What?" he asked irritably.

"You can't carry on like that with your sister, that's disgusting."

"How is Clara my sister? I have mortal parents. I mean my father was a Dragon Lord but still mortal."

"Balinor is not your father, Finvarr is."

"No, I'm pretty certain..."

"Remember who you're talking to?” Then Merlin did remember, even if he wanted to Tom could not lie. “I'm telling you now, the man Balinor is an illusion. Finvarr took the semblance of Balinor in order to dally with your mother for the express purpose of giving you that rather pathetic body you're in. Think about it...his eyes, his hair, more than his share of power."

Merlin sagged to the ground, eyes caught by Tom's truth. "I'm never getting a girlfriend am I?" 

Tom chuckled in reply.

*******

Mordred sat in the base of a hollow tree at the verge of the forest where Pendragon's knights tracked his creation. It had been several years since the Druid boy had escaped execution at Uther's hands through the interventions of his own children, yet he had not aged physically, not a single day. It was not by Mordred's own design. He was powerful enough, certainly, but he wanted to age. He should be fifteen next equinox. He wanted to be a man and sixteen year old Asriel had shown him the way. 

Asriel ruled the Unseelie Court, although he had described his retinue to the young Druid as the Faerie Aristocracy. Unlike Maeve and Finvarr's court, those governed by Asriel had no wish to see the world further divided. Not content to inhabit only half of creation they intended to return the land of Albion to her former glory. The human theft had channelled the flow of magic to this one landmass where before it circulated unchecked throughout the sphere. Why should Sidhe hide away, even if his Lord and Master Finvarr and the Daoine Sidhe believed they would inhabit the better half?

Mordred had believed him, as Asriel knew he would when he adopted this physical form. Adolescents preferred to take the word of other adolescents over adult admonition, no matter how ignorant their peers. It was laughable! "Kill the Younger Pendragon," was Asriel's advice. 

It wouldn't truly break the boy's curse, only Mordred's death would do that. The child had fallen into his hands, already forged into the perfect weapon. As his physical growth stunted, so too his emotional and intellectual capabilities, making him easy to manipulate. The chemical reactions of puberty would never catalyse Mordred's further development - his destiny had been to die as a child. By reaching out to Emrys for help he had distorted the Great Weaving and doomed himself to experience immortality from the perspective of an eight year old. No mortal affliction or sorcery could end his life. It was as if Mordred were invisible to the natural laws of the universe. Asriel had no intention of telling the young idiot any of this. Not until Arthur Pendragon was dead. Without Liam the division would fail. Now was the time to strike, with Emrys distracted by the glories of Avalon. Should Emrys return, the Aristocracy must bide a while longer under the guise of Daoine Sidhe. 

Mordred had created his first Barguest from a local hunter, using a range of spells and arcane utensils. Asriel had supplemented the boy's magic as the Druid added an impressive twist to the binding that required more than he was capable of. The man would appear unchanged until the gibbous moon, when he would transform into the horned Barguest. As the moon waned he would become human again, but so changed he could never return to his village. Yet as the moon waxed again he would be forced to search for a mate. As he was the only one currently in existence he would have to infect another and the cycle would escalate. 

Mordred's inexperience of sexual and procreational urges gave an unintended double edge to this element of the curse: if the Barguest attacked a mortal of the opposite gender, the sufferer in turn transformed at every gibbous moon; should a victim be the same gender they simply died a horrible death from an apparently infected wound. Asriel had laughed at the boy's concern when his first creation attacked male and female with equal ferocity. The Sidhe were legendary for bisexuality and continually disgusted by mortal persecution of those who were not rampantly heterosexual. As long as there was love, who cared? Forcing relationships based on anything else was the true aberration. 

Love was the greatest power in the universe, which was why Emrys would stand unopposed in feats of magic. His love for all around him was boundless. Asriel could only hope to weaken the warlock, never defeat him. He would use the boy to do just that by striking at the mortal Merlin's heart.

"Kill Arthur," he stated flatly to the waiting Druid.

Mordred searched through the mortal minds with his thoughts. "Only the Elder Pendragon attends!"

"Don't panic, you will catch the Younger unaware in his own home."

"How?"

"Focus their attack on the Elder. He will become weapon or bait. Either way the Younger will respond.” Asriel smiled. He was so beautifully wicked that Mordred became uncomfortably agitated. Asriel laughed, enjoying his dread. ''You have nothing to fear from me boy. I never consort with children."

Mordred relaxed, closed his eyes and concentrated on sending his thoughts to the fully transformed Barguest. Once he located his creations he telepathically gave them instructions. When he was sure they understood he opened his eyes.

Asriel was gone.

**********

One of Uther's men found the girl in a closed side tunnel, dead. Apart from the bite to her shoulder she had been uninjured. The position of her body was more disturbing, having been laid lovingly on the cold stone with small wildflowers sprinkled over her. The child's mother was one of those missing - perhaps the woman was not dead after all but kept prisoner in this burrow. 

Uther's party reached the den's central chamber just long enough before Sariah's to engage the three beasts. There appeared to be a large dominant male, a younger male and one female. The largest male was indeed the size of a warhorse with horns long and curved like an aurochs. These bovine horns ill-matched their lupine bodies, canine muzzles exposing carnivorous teeth with each vicious claw the length of a lady's finger. They had no tails, not that the soldiers noticed as they were too focused on the burning orange eyes that turned intelligently toward them as they entered, swords ready.

As one they attacked, running and pouncing seemingly at random so they could isolate the king. Horns, jaws and claws proved formidable weapons, even against sword and mail. Two men had fallen trying to protect their liege while the other three tried to separate the alpha male from the pack. They reasoned if the leader fell, the pack would falter as with most herd animals. No human was aware that the true pack leader was a Druid boy. Mordred's thoughts whispered inside their heads: kill the king and you will be free, convert him and you will also be rewarded. 

The males fell back to focus on the knights, leaving the wounded king to the female. This was how Sariah, Kieran and Douglas found the situation. Douglas ran immediately to the king while Kieran ran to prevent the smaller male from mauling the knight who had fallen beneath his weight. They instinctively left the alpha to their queen, who sliced his hamstring as he concentrated on the remaining men from Uther's party. Agonised and enraged he turned, bounded forward and leaped. Sariah swiped one sword into the side of his neck head even as she thrust the other up into his gut, using this lever and his own momentum to flip the body over behind her and into the earthen wall. The force of collision caused the head to sever neatly, but Sariah had already turned her attention to the others.

Douglas had managed to stab the female through her back and into her heart and was now examining Uther. Sariah watched her faltering heartbeats shudder along the sword, making the hilt bob in a slowing rhythm. As the remaining beast was also slaughtered the female's heart stopped. With that cessation the curse lifted and she resumed her natural form. Sariah dropped to her knees and turned to the corpse behind her. What she saw was no gigantic intimidating beast but a woodcutter who had been cruelly eviscerated and then decapitated. 

Sariah vomited, heaving repeatedly until all she could do was cry hysterically. She was oblivious to the horrified shouts around her as the last beast resumed the form of an adolescent boy. She did not notice Kieran standing between her and the peasant she had butchered until he slapped her smartly across the face. He made no apology and she demanded none, merely snapped back into focus.

"My queen, the King and Neil are bitten; Scott and Pryce are dead with Yardley near enough too. The girl was located earlier, already deceased. Your orders?"

"Doug, Reynard and I will hurry Uther to Gaius in Cameron and break the terrible news to the people. You fetch Ed, Alan and Duncan. What of Bevan?"

"The King left him at the surface with two others. Your men survived my Lady."

"Thank you Kieran, for that small consolation. Be on your way, I must attend to my husband."

*********

In the forest Mordred smiled. The deaths of the Barguest were collateral damage. Uther was bitten. The end had begun.

**********

Merlin sat cross-legged by his silent father wondering why he couldn't have looked like that - on second thoughts those features would appear alien in Camelot. At least he wasn't the only skinny lad in Albion with big ears. He would have been tormented mercilessly with golden-brown skin and almond eyes no matter how beautiful they appeared. Peace would never truly reign in the mortal world, they were too busy judging and comparing each other. 

"Your thoughts do you justice, my son,” Finvarr smiled broadly. It was odd to hear those words from a man who looked no older than himself, but not distracting enough for Merlin to miss the emotion behind them. He was reminded of Arthur saying ‘my wife’. “Even here, where time moves slowly I have waited an age to address you thus." 

"Thank you, father." Merlin's answering smile was the slightly crooked one that never failed to make others smile in return.  
"If I wasn't such an old crone...!" Sariah often laughed at him, shaking her finger accusingly whenever he flicked that smile at her. It was oddly more flattering knowing she wasn't serious, as if she could see his loneliness and was determined to bring him out of it.  
"Why are you lonely when you are surrounded by such family and friends, my son?" 

"I don't really know. It's a bit stupid really, isn't it? I get so busy concentrating on destiny that I forget they aren't as aware of fate as I am and that they don't love me because of what I do, but just for being me. Ridiculous, stubborn, girlie me." 

Merlin felt the last internal barrier between the boy warlock and Emrys crumble away with this revelation. He laughed at his own ignorance as the magic of Avalon flowed through him uninhibited. 

How could he have ever considered himself unloved? Just because it was subtle and constant didn't make it any less valuable, if anything the opposite was true. For the first time he truly pitied Arthur rather than envied him. Even as King he would have to express such emotion with restraint, whereas Merlin had been encouraged to love freely from birth. Love only increased in worth the more you gave it away! 

Merlin no longer feared becoming Emrys: Emrys wasn't cold and calculating. He was love and he was light!

**

Wails of anguish welcomed the dejected party into Cameron as they saw their King supported on a horse in front of his wife. The couple had many differences, but genuine affection had arisen from the marriage of convenience foisted upon them by the scrupulous Crown Prince and the Queen was reluctant to surrender Uther to anyone else's care until they reached Gaius. The wounds taken by Scott and Pryce were already swollen with infection. Yardley died without leaving the forest. 

Sariah took Gaius briefly aside as the Knights of Camelot placed their sovereign into the readily prepared bed. It was humble and lumpy, but the best in the village. 

"I know what you are and what you were old man, and I command you to use magic if necessary to grant the King more time. Arthur cannot survive his father's death without Emrys and Camelot will not survive without Arthur. Fear no retribution. Kieran can assist you - he's no Merlin but does have some latent talent."

Gaius was astonished at the treachery of Uther's wife. To have been hiding and educating a sorcerer under the king's very nose - and not tell Gaius about it! She had mortally offended and effectively trapped him in one sentence. Sariah would behead him if he did not use magic, Uther could only live to behead him if he did. 

As Sariah cleared the house of all others Gaius prepared himself, muttering “What another charming dilemma you've gotten yourself into.”

***********

The flustered rider from Cameron was granted direct access to the Prince as he ate his evening meal. Had he been in his chambers it would have been no different.

"Bevan,” Arthur nodded toward him in masculine welcome. “Sit, drink. You may eat with me while you talk."

"Thank you, Sire." The gratitude in the younger man's voice was heartfelt. His Prince patiently continued his meal, seeing the messenger needed time to gather his thoughts. He offered Bevan the last of the venison from his own plate, embarrassed by the lad's surprise. Bevan accepted it, though. None wished to insult the Prince or Queen by refusing their unexpected hospitality. The King may have taught his son how to fight and demand obedience but it was the women in his life and a rather pathetic manservant who continually taught him how to love and earn respect. Bevan cleaned his hands and Arthur folded his own, giving the youth his undivided attention.

"Your father the King received grave wounds in the den of the ... wolf things. His wife asks his room be prepared for his arrival with clean bed linen, a substantial fire and hot water to hand. Gaius, Kieran and the Queen attend him as he must journey slowly so as not to reopen the wound. The Queen will ride ahead as they draw near to confer with yourself and check the preparations."

Arthur pondered this news silently, unsure as to whether Sariah staying behind bode well or ill. "Of the others?" he enquired as Bevan stood to leave, pushing some roasted vegetables towards him.

The young man told all he knew of the events, apologising that his information was second hand. Arthur treated him as a guest, filling the empty cup himself rather than asking Percy to do it. His face was grave as Bevan delivered the last piece of news regarding the shape shifters. "A man from the village confirmed it Sire. The creature that savaged the King and changed back into a woman: it was her daughter that was taken, the little girl covered in flowers. Was she really a monster if she still loved her child like that?" 

This was a question Arthur often asked himself when he considered his father's actions heartless. It was a question he could not answer. To ease Bevan's mind before sending him away he would have to come up with one. "No. The child’s mother was wrong, confused, possibly even scared but I don't believe she was a monster."

So comforted, Bevan thanked his prince and departed, leaving Arthur to wonder if he believed his own words. He concluded that he had to believe it or go insane. 

He tried to look out the window but only managed to focus on his own reflection. If his father's mistakes meant he was a monster, what did that make Arthur? He leaned his brow against the glass and stared into his own eyes.

"Merlin, I need you," he whispered to his miserable image, an unexpected tear falling against the pane to trickle down like a lonely raindrop. 

Arthur watched the liquid trail until it reached the sill. No time to stand around crying, he had work to do.

**

_Merlin, I need you._

Emrys called in his magic to focus on the voice. The myriad objects, creatures and illusions he had been simultaneously manipulating returned to normal. He turned to look at the Faerie Queen who had been his sole audience. 

"How long have I been here? In Albion time: how long?"

"One half-year."

It only felt like weeks. "I have to return, now!"

"Why?"

"Arthur needs me."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"No. I needed to be sure you understood that. I cannot stop you leaving and your father will not but we would prefer if you did not go alone. There is much you do not yet know and you cannot return to Avalon until you die."

"Clara?"

"No, I understand why you choose your immortal sister but do you really want her loose in Albion?" 

"No, I s'pose not." Clara would definitely wreak havoc and she would just LOVE Arthur, though love was not quite accurate. 

"My daughter Evadne will go. She also has one mortal parent so will not appear out of place among humans. It is time for your last lesson in magic. Evadne will teach you." 

The lithe, blonde Evadne had landed lightly on her feet when Emrys heard Arthur's voice. The current expression in her light brown eyes made him uncomfortable as she seemed to be laughing at him. Whatever the joke was, Emrys missed it. 

"We will send you through the gateway closest to Liam." 

"The Lake?" Memories of miseries concerning the lake threatened to overwhelm his fully awakened heart. Life was full of sorrow and pain and while he was mortal he must face it. He turned to Joy, resolution flaring in his golden eyes. 

"The Lake," Joy said with a nod. 

Evadne took his hand and they were gone.

**

Uther was pale with face, neck and shoulder badly gouged, but there was no sign of fever or infection. In fact the wound seemed to be healing quite rapidly. Gaius was alarmed. Nothing more than clean water and herbs had been applied to the injuries, yet the King recovered while the others had died before reaching the city gates. There was magic afoot. 

Neither Gaius nor Kieran dare use sorcery and not merely because Uther was becoming more lucid. This enchantment resembled nothing familiar to either man. In truth, nothing about this business sat comfortably with the old man's knowledge. The beasts sounded like Barguest, Faerie creatures that used to lead dogs in howling procession at the death of a prominent figure. But they hadn't been seen since the time of the Ancients! And they certainly did not shift between human and supernatural form. It was as though many tales had been mashed into one. No matter what books Gaius read he found no suitable answer. The only place left to look was currently unavailable. 

He needed Merlin.

************

Merlin felt Evadne touch the universal fabric with her mind and locate their individual threads. Evadne's was the same tawny blond as her hair, Merlin's the shade of blue found at the heart of an iceberg, and he noticed how far it sat from Arthur's rose-gold strand at this particular point in time and space. Evadne gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and let him see how she tweaked the threads, just so, and then they were rising through the water. 

Merlin's mind was in overload. The contact with Evadne's mind had seemed slowly drawn out so he could learn from her, when in fact the whole process had taken less time than a blink. And now he was not swimming in the water of the lake, but between as if he and Evadne were slipping through the nothingness in the molecules of the water. How did everything contain so much nothing? If everything was more nothing than something did it even really exist? His eyes were wild as they emerged through the lake's surface. Evadne kept a firm grip on Merlin’s hand as if he would fly away with his thoughts. The air was thicker, heavier here and he started to panic. Before his distress took complete control the halfling girl took his face in her hands and kissed him softly, then eagerly. 

This was definitely unexpected but since it was far more pleasant than dementia, Merlin relaxed and responded. Eventually his attention became entirely focused on their embrace and he plummeted into the water. Evadne's laugh tinkled merrily as she translocated the startled warlock onto land. 

"Why are you always laughing at me?" ha asked.

"After all that time in Avalon you still think like a mortal. I showed you the answer woven into the Tapestry of Creation, and you didn't see. Find the threads to take us to Arthur and this time, pay attention."

She held his hand again as he conjured the image in his mind. The rose-gold and ice-blue were no longer placed a universe apart, but it was the tan thread of Evadne that caught Merlin’s attention. Not now, not even in the near future but eventually it became entwined Merlin’s, and strands of other colours came out of that complex knot leading off into the distance. He saw his thought materialise and drift into space; Oh!

Evadne's giggle appeared as sparkling butterflies in their combined awareness and Merlin found it hard to concentrate. 

"It's easy to get lost,” she said aloud, bringing him back to earth. “So now you know the joke, take me to this burnished Prince of yours."

With a thought, he did.

**

His appearance did not rouse the expected reaction. 

"Merlin? About blasted time! Who in Camelot is that? Have you been off chasing a girl these six months while Gwen and I have been worried sick? What's wrong with your eyes?" 

"Yes. I came as soon as you called. Evadne, daughter of the Faerie Queen and a mortal man. No. Nothing. What's happened?" 

Arthur did the flabbergasted fish impersonation which lead to the inevitable conclusion of Merlin snorting like a pig with an acorn lodged in its snout. 

"Merlin?' Sariah came wearily from her husband's bedside to hug him warmly at the familiar sound. “Welcome home dear. Arthur's been pacing incessantly and aggravating everyone, but now you're back he should be much less of a prat." 

"I most certainly will not! Hang on..."

Sariah laughed and patted Arthur’s cheek with genuine affection. "Take them somewhere else to do this. I don't need Gwen barging in here to yell at him as well while I'm trying to sleep."

"I like her!" Evadne laughed as they left the king's chamber.

Arthur raised an eyebrow in mock scorn. "The novelty soon wears off.”  
Merlin was slightly perturbed at his companion's fascination with the Prince's perpetual strut, Arthur of course remained oblivious.  
“Sariah was right though, I've been like a headless chicken hoping you'd return. Father's got himself tangled up in the kind of nonsense only you can fix. Poor Gaius has worked himself into exhaustion and we've quartered him in Sariah's rooms as she refuses to leave father until we have this sorted out." Arthur relayed the entire sequence of events as they wended their way to his private chambers.

Gwen complained about being woken up until she saw who accompanied her husband and then she flung her arms about him in a squealing hug. Evadne frowned slightly, but not from jealousy. 

"You've gained weight!" Merlin declared with his usual tactical flair. 

"Didn't learn diplomacy on your study trip?" Arthur quipped with a grin. Oddly neither he nor Gwen seemed offended by Merlin's observation and he slowly realised why he had not been slapped upside the head.

"Congratulations!" Merlin marvelled and the trio hugged some more. Evadne held back from their mutual joy, but as she was a stranger no offense was taken. Indeed none was intended. 

Emrys had not time to study the Tapestry as the Faeries had, he could not see the despair ahead.

************

Morning reunited Merlin with his mentor and the warlock frowned at his aged friend. "You're working yourself to death Gaius." "Merlin!” He smiled warmly and caught the younger man in a warm embrace then looked into Merlin's golden eyes. “Or should I say Emrys?" 

"Don't Gaius. I'm still Merlin. Tell me what to do."

"I don't know what to do. Even after examining each corpse thoroughly I cannot begin to hazard a guess as to why those people died from wounds less severe than Uther's yet he heals. While I know magic is involved my talents cannot unravel its nature or its source. I believe the creatures that did this predate the Old Religion." He explained his findings based on physical evidence and observations from the hunting party.

"And they changed back to human form at the time of death?" Merlin asked.

"Perhaps that was not the only time." Arthur added from the doorway accompanied by an awestruck peasant eating a roasted chicken leg. The Prince nodded at the work-worn man to speak.

"As I done told 'is Majesty 'ere, theys only attacks us at full moon. We sees not 'ide nor 'air, nor 'ears 'em 'owlin' any uvva time and they done bover us four months!"

"Werewolves?" Merlin asked Gaius.

"Not quite wolves Merlin,” Arthur replied. “Wolves don't have horns."

"The physical description is similar to an ancient creature called a Barguest. This lunar element is only another aspect of a complex curse. Those people were forced into that shape with the added torment of shifting back and forth at someone else's whim."

"Up for the hunt Merlin?" Arthur's eyes flashed with familiarly eager fire.

"Definitely."

**

"It will be quicker without horses." 

"You do know how far it is to Cameron, Merlin? Speed is essential." 

"I can get us there in a flash!" His grin told Arthur more than words. 

"You mean magic? You intend to use magic on me?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Merlin told him blandly.

"If you grin any wider the top of your head will fall off."

"Do you trust me?"

"Only you."

This confession revealed just how deeply his friend's absence affected the prince. He may as well have said don't you dare leave me like that again. Merlin waited patiently, watching Arthur's features shift with his thoughts. He knew what each flicker meant and realised how much he had underestimated Arthur's regard for him. Merlin had been the one keeping secrets because he never fully trusted his friend, yet Arthur continued to trust him fully. He never once accused Merlin of being a treacherous sorcerer.

"We'll do it your way."

"Thank you Sire," Merlin's formal reply conveyed the deeper respect he felt for his friend.

**

"Your girlfriend's very pretty Merlin but does she really need to come along?" Very pretty indeed Arthur caught himself thinking then abused himself for noticing. 

"Evadne's not my girlfriend."

"Not yet." The young lady smiled flirtatiously and Arthur berated himself for reciprocating. 

"She's halfling: mortal father, immortal mother. You know that story about True Tom and the Faerie Queen?"

Arthur nodded while drowning in her sparkling bronze eyes.

"They're my parents," Evadne explained proudly and Arthur twigged.

"Stop that! I love my wife."

"I know.” Evadne sighed sadly. “Pity, for there is no man more beautiful than you."

"I said stop it!"

"Human relationships are so strange." Evadne said with mock despair as she complied and the compulsion was broken.

"And your mother was worried about letting Clara near him!" exclaimed Merlin.

"Your sister would have persisted against his wishes."

"Can we get going?" Arthur demanded.

The instant the trio joined hands they left...  
...and arrived.

"That was...odd," Arthur observed with a raised eyebrow, evoking gentle laughter from the others, but he was already professionally examining the empty den and paid no heed. He applied his tracking skills to reconstruct the events that occurred here. "The only human tracks belong to father's hunting party and the three victims. The girl was dead on arrival, carried in and then interred by her mother in animal form." He knelt and bowed his head over the flowered bower, murmuring a psalm of regret. Uther would have described the Barguests as beasts or anomalies. Arthur saw them for what they were: tortured pawns. "Her mother was either trying to protect her, or convert her." 

"The latter,” Merlin said in agreement. “These earthen walls absorbed their torment. I can feel it." 

"Puck!" The word spat from Evadne's mouth like the vilest profanity. 

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur enquired. 

"Puck had something to do with this, the evil little...." This time she did use profanity. 

"Who is this Puck?" Arthur enquired. 

"Puck was my mother's husband before Finvarr, before the division." 

"Arthur, we need to get out of here, now!" Merlin grabbed Arthur's hand and escaped leaving Evadne to take care of herself. He had detected another presence, a wispy grey thread that he realised should have been cut years ago—Mordred.

**

"Emrys returned," the Druid boy grumped to his Faerie Lord who merely shrugged and ate a grape.

Asriel didn't need to eat, but enjoyed the burst of flavour and physical sensation that only fruit provided. "Stay out of it." 

"But..." 

"Stay out of it or die child, those are your choices. You cannot defeat the Guardian while the Immortal is close, and none can defeat the Immortal while the Guardian is in his heart. Like all humans you need to learn when to give up. Now if you'll excuse me,” Mordred was frightened to see Puck shed Asriel and resume his natural form, “I must visit my Queen."

The laughing Norse figure disappeared as suddenly as he had changed, leaving Mordred alone.

**

Uther was awake, his scars barely visible when his son returned, and there was a fire in his eyes as if all emotions burned within him at once. This miraculous recovery coupled with the discovery of a Druid/Faerie conspiracy shadowed the most important thing they had learned in Cameron. They would remember twenty days later as the moon waxed full...

**

Both royal couples were lunching together when the change began. Uther's hand began to shake, dropping his spoon with a ‘plop!’ into the soup. His other flew to the faded scars at his neck as pain seared through it, as though the original wounds were inflicted anew.

"Uther?" Sariah reached automatically for her husband and retracted her hand sharply as a cruel growl escaped his throat. 

"Percy, fetch Merlin," Arthur ordered though his voice remained calm. "Gwen go to our room." 

"Arthur..." 

"Go!" He had never commanded his wife before, intended never to do so again, but her pregnancy was still in the early, most dangerous stage and he was not prepared to risk either life.

Uther sank off his chair, slowly curling into the foetal position as the growl receded to a whimper. "Gaius!" he gasped. 

Merlin, Gaius and Evadne 'popped' in at the doorway. The king was too distressed to notice their sudden appearance. His initial aggression had subsided enough to let his wife hold him in her lap and his son to place a concerned hand on his wrist, but his body still strained against some invisible foe. 

"Conversion," the inhuman blonde whispered. Arthur and Merlin immediately understood. 

"Stop it," Arthur begged his friend. 

Merlin tapped into the life force around him, searching for an answer. He felt Evadne add her support, and shared her disappointment. "We can't," he whispered. 

"Why not?"

"The curse is woven in such a way that only death will end it." 

Sariah spoke into the yawning silence. "How, what...do you mean he's changing into...into one of those?" She stopped mortified as Merlin's stony face confirmed it. 

"How?" croaked Uther. 

"When you were bitten some form of accursed poison tainted your blood. For some reason this poison either kills or transforms you," Gaius replied.

"Either way, I'm a dead man?"

The younger warlock nodded.

"Gaius, you are the one I trust most…” Uther doubled over and then arched back in screaming agony, lupine fur started to sprout form the scars on his neck and shoulder. As the spasm subsided he continued talking “…apart from my wife. Will you support my son as you have supported me?" 

"Of course Uther." 

"Arthur, my greatest accomplishment.” The king's fingers lengthened into claws as he clutched his son's hand, eyes burned with orange flame combined with human desperation. “Please kill me!" he begged as seizures echoed throughout his body. 

"Father, I can't!"

"I'll do it," Sariah whispered to Arthur, “but I can't do it alone." She looked to Merlin. "You say a bite did this to him? How deep does it have to be?"  
"It doesn’t even need to draw blood." 

She nodded sadly. "Gaius, can you please check my shoulder?"

"Of course my Lady, may I ask why?"

Sariah gave a sad, yet still naughty chuckle which was echoed by her husband. His face had not yet begun to change and she kissed his forehead fondly. "Uther tends to...to...bite down when…he...when we..." 

"Oh!" Gaius, Evadne and Arthur chorused. Arthur blushed outrageously. He had more in common with his father than he thought. 

Gaius nodded to the others dejectedly. Her rather fresh wound was already red and swollen. 

Arthur asked his friends to leave and then issued a command when they protested. "This is a family matter. If you care for any of us at all you will grant us this." 

He stood and summoned the King's personal guard form the corridor, taking the youngest man's sword and asking him to bear witness. Uther's face evolved into a snarling maw as he struggled against his wife's steel embrace. The knights solemnly circled the couple.  
Arthur faced his parents and saluted them with his sword. "We'll make this as honourable as possible. At my signal." 

He held Sariah's gaze, expecting to see fear and loathing for what he was about to do. He found courage, pride and affection instead. He was about to commit patricide, orphan himself completely with one stroke and his stepmother loved him for it. Sariah nodded her head with a smile. 

Arthur nodded in return and seven swords slid home.


End file.
